Past Grievances
by Dei Gratia 43
Summary: I never knew the meaning of guilt until Ron’s death when I felt the new emotion closing in on me on all sides. It drove me away from those who I loved and it drove me away from the insufferable man who caused feelings of lust and shame to boil within me.
1. Awaken

It was raining. A consistent, whispering rain which had been ongoing for days now. As I stared onto the hollow earth at my feet, knowing a pair of figures stood by my side, I could not call forth even the slightest bit of comfort. Instead, I found myself desperately attempting to recall a moment in the past year where I wasn't as lonely as I felt in this present hour. A deep sorrow which was inevitable seemed to be closing in on all sides, drawing me further into a darkness that I could not escape. As the heavens cried tears which I could not seem to muster myself, I found those same tears blurring the corners of reality. Slowly, my surroundings became another scene completely. Not even the small, warm hand which laid within my own could save me from this dizzying overtake.

The grey contrast of the murky sky gradually shifted into a luminous sea of reds and yellows. The echo of terrorized shrieks ignited in my ears. As my eyes shut in an effort to end the formidable image, the scene continued to project across my closed eyelids. In front of me was the man who had accidently ripped my heart from my chest and buried it six feet under in a hand-carved coffin, despite his not meaning to. His wide, blue eyes beckoned me hastily forward. His arm slipped around my waist in an effort to quicken my body which had become frozen in unease, already knowing the way the story ends.

My heart clenched as a familiar urge came over me. The same urge which had brought an end to all my happiness just one year ago on this very day. I found myself wanting to turn around. To turn around and run back in the direction that we had, at the time, come. He doesn't agree. His arm fell from my waist until his hand was persistently tugging at my elbow, telling me with a stubborn look that now wasn't the time for objection. He was right, it turned out. For it was at that exact moment that it had hit him. A flash of green light came from an unknown direction, turning out the light in his eyes forever.

"Hermione," someone said, only a faint whisper in the corner of my mind. It was enough, though; for I was unconsciously seeking some form of reality to drag myself away from my own personal Hell. My eyes blinked open, meeting the emerald of a shaggy, black haired man's. "It's time to go."

My throat seemed dry, as if someone had shoved a piece of the itchy wool, which Molly always used to make the family's Christmas sweaters, down it. The small, warm hand was still grasping my own, I suddenly realized. Turning my head down, I met the blue gaze of a little girl who seemed to haunt me with her familiarity. "Of course, Harry," I deadpanned, looking quickly away from her red hair and freckles.

"Are you coming back to the Burrow with me?" he asked, eyes shimmering with quiet understanding. Sometimes it still frightened me how knowledgeable we each had become toward the other's thoughts and emotions. How I could sense the deep regret in his heart, and how he could, quite obviously, sense my prior tumble towards oblivion. Ron had been sensitive to us, as well. That connection would never be awaken, however. It was a fact that constantly probed at my heart, as if it were a piece of me that would forever cause my body to ache in its absence. "It might be nice for Tyler to see her cousins, yeah?"

Immediately, my mouth opened to object. Spending an evening with a family of complete replicas of my haunting desire, did not quite sit well with me. Besides, I would never come to be completely apart of their household. My opposition was completely drowned out by the pleasantly jovial voice of my daughter.

"Oh, Mummy, _please_! Can we?"

"Tyler, it's been a long day-"

Her adorable azure eyes seemed to melt my bones, even as I fought to hold back the image of Ron's. The likelihood which she held toward her father used to make me swell with pride; now, I couldn't seem to stop the stinging in the back of my eyes whenever Tyler looked in my direction a certain way. "Please?," she pouted, "We don't have to stay long."

"Sweetie-"

"C'mon, Hermione," Harry said, copying his godchild's expression, "The rest of the kids will love to run about with her. They've always been close and Tyler hasn't had much opportunity to be with them in months. Besides, everyone is home for the anniversary. We're family, Hermione. You can't just keep hiding from that." My jaw clenched as his expression became accusative.

"Harry, it's all just too much. Besides, Ronald and I were not married. I'm not their family," I shrugged, causing my attempt to remain nonchalant to become quite obvious.

Letting out a disbelieving laugh, Harry exclaimed, "You were with Ron for over six years! You guys had a child together. Like it or not, the Weasleys are Tyler's family and your own."

My face crumpled in brief shame as my hand absently settled on Tyler's shoulder, drawing her closer. It wasn't right of me to neglect Ron's parents and siblings. After all, Arthur and Molly had been such a miracle since the death of my parents. Plus, Tyler simply adored them all. It was vividly clear since her birth that she withheld more Weasley traits than Granger ones. Their metabolism, their stubbornness, their rather crude sense of humor. Yet, most of all, their kind and humble natures. For the last year, though, looking into the eyes of the Weasleys had felt harder than staying away. So, that's what I did. I stayed away from them all.

"Besides," Harry continued, taking advantage of my loss of speech, "I really need to speak to you about something important later."

"What is it?"

A slight smile spread across his face, "Ah, it seems the know-it-all in you hasn't ventured _too_ far."

"Oh, sod off," I groaned, looking down at Tyler. "Well, alright. I'm sure Tyler has dreadfully missed Fred and George, anyway. Right, Sweetie?" I received a winning smile in response.

* * *

Despite the decades which the Burrow had remained standing, nothing quite seemed to have changed so much as a fraction. No matter how many times I had entered and exited the warm hospitality offered by the loving home, I could always expect the exact same environment the next time I came around. Only the people inside change. However, age is merely a number and not a single Weasley changes in personality. Fred and George were prime examples of such.

"Granger," the twins chimed in unison as they appeared as if from thin air the moment I stepped through the threshold with Harry and Tyler on my heels.

Holding back a groan, I threw a desperate look at Harry. He merely shrugged sheepishly in return. Tyler, on the other hand, rushed into her uncles' waiting arms. "Fredorge!" she exclaimed, instead of choosing one or the other to greet first.

"Well if it isn't our little raging ball of bushy red hair," one twin grinned, lifting Tyler up for closer inspection.

The second twin put a finger to his chin, "You've grown missy. How _dare_ you!"

"Sorry, I can't help it," Tyler said, shrugging helplessly, "When I tried to make myself shorter, Mummy made me stop."

Harry smirked to himself before looking over at me with a questioning brow. Sighing, I announced, "She was in my library, stacking books atop her head in the hope that they would squish her down a couple of inches. Was I supposed to let gravity have its way with her?"

No one had time to supply a teasing remark before Mrs. Weasley came bustling unexpectedly into the foyer. "My dears!" she exclaimed, a kind smile spreading broadly across her plump, cheerful face, "It's been such a long while. 'Bout time you've came around to see me. Everyone is home. The boys, and Ginny, have missed Tyler a bundle. You really shouldn't keep my only granddaughter away for extended periods, Hermione. It's not good for an old lady."

"I'm sorry, Molly," I said, genuinely feeling sick that I had been so crude towards them. Suddenly, the awful regret and the amount I had truly missed them all, came rushing back to me. My arms flew around Mrs. Weasley, embracing the woman who had been the closest I've had to a mother figure for over 3 years.

Lovingly, she stroked the back of my head, a truly maternal gesture. The image of myself doing the exact same action to Tyler entered my mind. "It's quite alright, dear. No one blames you, we've just missed you, is all."

"Who else are we going to use as a walking library?" a twin supplied, breaking the moment and causing the group to chuckle lightly.

"Shut it, Fred," Molly dismissed absently as I leaned back from the hug..

"I'm not Fred!" a twin, now recognized to be George Weasley, exclaimed while turning an amusing shade of red in annoyance.

"I am!"

"All the same," she shrugged, placing a kiss on Tyler's cheek as George placed the girl upon her feet.

Fred shook his head, "To think, all these years and I truly thought we were loved in this house, George."

"This breaks my heart," George pouted.

"Rips it apart, really."

"Burns it to ashes and gives it to Malfoy."

"Blazin' Hell, the pain!"

Harry laughed good-naturedly, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes glimmered beneath his glasses, "You two are never going to grow up."

"You get used to it," a new voice said, joining us in the foyer. "All right, Hermione?"

"I've been better," I admitted, looking quickly to Harry and then back, "What about you, Charlie? All right?"

"I'm absolutely sensational," the second oldest of the Weasley kids replied, grinning boisterously. It didn't avoid my notice, though, that the grin was slightly off. Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I smiled in return. The way Charlie was able to carry himself had always thrown me for a loop. He was the only Weasley whom I really had nothing in common with that I knew of. In fact, he was probably my complete opposite. Charming, more hands-on than hands-on-books, disorderly, daring, and spontaneous. I, however, lived for lists and order. I had learned early on in life that I needed to be in control in order to function at my best. "How's the littlest bird of my world?" Charlie asked, leaning down to tickle the sides of an absolutely glowing Tyler.

"Fine," she giggled, causing me to beam. Harry was right, it had been too long. I cast a thankful smile his way which was immediately responded to with a wink.

"Molly?" Harry asked, "Is Ginny around?"

Everyone turned to smile knowingly at the, now flushed, man. "'Course, dear. She's right in the kitchen, go on ahead," Molly replied helpfully.

Nodding, Harry slipped in between myself and Charlie on the way towards the kitchen door. "Meet me on the back porch in two hours," he whispered quietly in my ear as he passed. He lifted his head to look at me only long enough to see my curt nod.

"Give Dad and Bill a heads up before you two go at it in the kitchen!" Fred announced, causing George and Charlie to snicker. Molly shook her head in exasperation before taking Tyler's hand and following after Harry, muttering about how "Boys will be boys."

"Bill's here?" I found myself asking Charlie as the twins disappeared up the stairs.

Charlie turned his gaze to meet mine. I realized, for the first time, that his eyes weren't the normal Weasley blue. They were green, almost sea-green. The thought struck me that, not only are we most unalike...but we really hadn't spent much time together. Charlie spent all his time in Romania with his dragons. Another tally he had against me, I was scared beyond my wits of dragons. I vividly remembered feeling completely ill when Harry had come up against one in the TriWizard Tournament. Even Hagrid's old "pet," Norbert, had scared me out of my knickers. "Yeah," he replied, successfully grounding me from my thoughts, "Why?"

"No reason," I shrugged, "Just haven't seen him in so long."

"And whose fault is that?" Charlie retorted suddenly, his eyes narrowing almost in calculation.

"What are you on about?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling completely bewildered about his sudden change of mood. I couldn't stop wondering what exactly had gotten his wand in a knot.

"You," he stated shortly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world, "It's your own bloody fault that you haven't seen any of us in so long. Now, you just pop in as if nothing has happened and you hadn't been gone for an entire _year_."

"I'm sorry," I bit out, furious that he was being so rude to me so unexpectedly, "But have you really got the nerve to talk? After all, you're the one who remains cooped up with scaly beasts in some god-forsaken spit of land, instead of spending more than a day at a time with your mother."

"It's my job, Granger."

"You should make more time for your family."

Letting out a bark of sarcastic laughter, Charlie shook his head, "Oh, that's _priceless_...Especially coming from you."

"Why are you acting like this?" I asked, fuming with annoyance. Since when had Charlie ever been so hostile towards me? He was supposed to be warm and endearing. Not so...vile.

"You could have come around!"

"Right back at you!"

Unexpectedly, the door to the kitchen swung open, revealing the ruggedly handsome face of the eldest Weasley boy. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, moving his gaze back and forth between myself and Charlie. I could only imagine how red in the face I had became. It gave me some pleasure when I noted that Charlie now had rivaled the shade of a tomato.

"Bill!" I said, casting Charlie a dirty look before launching myself into Bill's embrace.

"How have you been?" he asked, holding me away from his body in order to scan me over. "You look fantastic, 'Mione."

Sighing, I muttered half-heartedly, "Don't call me that."

"So?" he prompted, looking over my shoulder for a quick second, presumably at his brother.

"I'm great, and you look fantastic, as well. Seems Fleur is keeping you in good health."

"More like slowly killing me, she wants to have another kid. I'm thinking two is a good number."

"Nonsense, I think you need a third. It'll keep you young," I teased, poking his chest.

Bill answered with wide, mockingly, horrified eyes, "Do I look old? Am I getting fat?"

I laughed cheerfully before ruffling his hair and dragging him by the arm back towards the kitchen. "Is your mother almost done with dinner? I think I could eat a dragon," I drawled, throwing a challenging glance over at Charlie.

"Yeah, well don't get burned," Charlie muttered in a low growl, causing Bill to, once again, look between us in confusion.

* * *

"Something you care to share with the class?" Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow at me as we settled down on the bottom steps of the back porch following dinner. The sky had already become dark, though only a single star seemed to be out at the moment.

"Make a wish," I mumbled, ignoring him for the time being.

"Pardon?"

"It's the first star, silly. Make a wish," I responded, closing my eyes and making the same wish that I had been repeating over and over again for a year now. When I finally opened my eyes a few moments later, I saw that Harry is opening his, as well. Only Harry would actually listen to me about something so childish. Not even Ron would have. He would have stubbornly dismissed it.

"So?" Harry sighed, returning to the earlier topic.

"I haven't the slightest idea where you are going with this, Harry."

He laughed, "Good one. You always were a bad actress, Hermione. Why don't you just tell me why I could cut the tension between you and Charlie with a knife during supper, so we can move on?"

"We had a row just after I arrived," I said, choosing to respond honestly, yet to down play the argument. "Nothing to alert _Witch Weekly_ for. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what you needed to speak to me about?"

Rubbing the back of his head, Harry sighed heavily, "I wasn't planning on any disagreements between you two. Actually, I thought Charlie would be just as welcoming as the rest of 'em towards your home-coming. It complicates things the way it has played out."

"Complicates what things?" I asked, confused beyond reason. "Just come off it and tell me."

"I need you to do something for me. Actually, I'm ordering you to do something for me," Harry said, somewhat reluctantly.

"I don't understand."

"Let me explain, then," he insisted, knowing how impatient I could get when it came to these sort of occasions. "I need you to leave." I opened my mouth to interject again but was eagerly dismissed, "I need you to leave the country, Hermione. It would be only for your own good. You know how things have been. The world is slowly inching towards dark times, again. Actually, considering everything, I think it's safe to say we are _in_ dark times, again. With all the rogue Death Eaters who are still scrambling to gain power after Voldemort's downfall, its not safe for the two of us. Or our families. Towns all across Europe are being torched to the ground, Muggles and Muggleborns are being captured and/or executed."

"What does this have to do with me? I mean...Yes, I'm a Muggleborn; but shouldn't we concentrate on gathering resistance again, instead of running? You know I can help. I've been a crucial aspect of this war before, and I still am."

"You have a daughter," Harry reasoned.

"As if I don't know that...Have you ever pushed a little person out of yourself?" I teased, trying to make him brighten up and move away from such silly discussions.

"Don't you see?"

"What's there to see?"

"They're going after us, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, as he lost his patience at last.

"What-"

"Ron's dead. You and I are next if we don't do something about it. I, for one, won't stand for that. You have a little girl who needs you. I'll stay and lead the resistance, but I need to know that you are safe," he finished, breathing in a large breath of the night air.

Still not accepting the fact that my best friend was simply shoving me off to the side, I stubbornly shook my head, "No, I'm not leaving you so I can act a coward in some faraway place."

"I've already told you," Harry smiled sadly, "I'm not asking. I'm ordering. You and Tyler are to go live in Romania. With Charlie on the reserve."

It took a moment for my brain to wrap around his proposal, before, "You've _got_ to be off your rocker!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. "Are you trying to kill me, or just trying to kill Charlie? Because, one of us _will _go, that much I know for sure."

"You guys will come to an agreement. Besides, he'll gladly take you in after being explained the circumstances," Harry said gently, following my lead and standing.

"That's just wonderful, Harry. You haven't even discussed this with him, yet. Have you?"

"Not quite," he admitted, "But, it doesn't make much of a difference. He's trustworthy. As, I'm sure, are the other men on the reserve. You'll be completely safe there. May even be fun. Besides, sooner or later you're going to have to come out of that shell of yours."

"I do not have a shell," I huffed, resisting the childish impulse to stick out my tongue at him, "I'm completely comfortable with who I am. And, Tyler will hate this plan. Where is she, by the way?"

"She's playing with Jared and Kevin in the livingroom," Harry explained, smirking somewhat, "Bill was pretty damn anxious to get the boys off his chest long enough to collapse upstairs for a short nap. Ever since Fleur took a week off to visit her parents in France, he's been working himself into a state having to deal with the kids alone."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the image of an exhausted Bill chasing lazily after the two fiery young boys who had an energy level that would rival that of Fred and George. "You're off topic, Harry."

"Apologies, where were we?" he said, somewhat sincerely.

"Tyler wouldn't go for this," I supplied, raising an eyebrow at him as if challenging him to say differently...Which is exactly what he then did.

"'Course she would. She adores Charlie, and kids love dragons."

"Dragons are dangerous."

"So are Death Eaters."

"I'd take the Death Eater over the blasted dragon."

"Over my dead body."

"Easily arranged."

Harry bit his lip, looking up at the sky as if begging some unseen god to strike me down and make me see things the way he wished for me to see them. "_Please_," he said at last, "It won't be too long. Just a couple of months, and I'll visit every once in a while. You know how I can't go too long without seeing Tyler, anyway."

"Charlie isn't going to like this," I singsonged, secretly taking great pleasure in that fact, even as I pouted about the loss of this particular argument. Romania didn't really sound all that appealing to me. My home is in Britain. It always had been.

"You're overreacting. He'll love the company," Harry said, dismissing my argument with a wave of his hand, "I'll go talk to him now."

* * *

I knew the instant that Harry had relayed the "good" news to Charlie. I was sitting in the livingroom watching as the twins levitated a couple of toys around in order to entertain the kids. Quite suddenly, from the back porch came a loud, quite audible, thump. I distantly wondered if Charlie had hit his head against the house in his need for a way out of Harry's little plan. It wouldn't be very surprising, actually the idea sounded highly appealing in my eyes.

For a while, there was complete silence. I imagined Harry arguing with Charlie in a low, steely voice. Forcing the tall, yet not overly tall, athletic redhead to see things his way. I had known that Harry was delusional when he thought Charlie and I would willingly be forced to live in the same vicinity for any extended time period.

It wasn't until about thirty minutes after the thump that Harry and Charlie reentered the Burrow. Charlie immediately looked over at me, scowling in his deep reluctance to go along with this whole ordeal. "You better not give me crap for this. You should be kissing my arse."

Snorting, I placed a somewhat mischievious smirk on my face, "Yeah, well if you snore...Don't expect to wake up in the morning."

* * *

**AN: Read and Review :) I've only just decided to write this story, today. This is what I've got so far. The rest of the plot is still spinning around in the void I call my brain. The next chapter will be up ASAP, but only if you guys have enjoyed it thus far. Tell me what you think! **


	2. Leave

The strength that it would take for me to leave the comforting confines of my own home didn't quite strike me until late afternoon of the day following my talk with Harry. Though nothing outstanding, Ron and I had worked hard to establish a house that felt safe for both us and our daughter during the world's dark and difficult times. The idea of parting ways with the quaint cabin in the woods seemed to be unfeasible. After all, it wasn't anything fancy, but it was secure. It had a lovely stone fireplace in the livingroom where Ron used to roast marshmallows with Tyler throughout the course of long winters, and there was a beautiful set of wicker furniture upon its back porch in the ideal position to watch Tyler play in the yard from. In my own little world, the cabin was absolutely perfect in every single way, shape and form.

"I don't want to go live in Ramainda," Tyler sulked from where she lay, spread out across my bed while I rummaged for clothing through my old, oak dresser. It was going to take a miracle to fit everything into a single case of luggage, which had been Charlie's one request. Both Tyler and myself were to only bring one each. I was firm in my belief that he was merely saying so in the hope of ruffling my feathers. The pompous, arrogant…git. Now, I was going to have to shrink every article of clothing, making an hour long process into nearly double that amount.

"It's pronounced, 'Ro-main-ee-a,' Sweetie," I quickly corrected, pronouncing the syllables the way they were truly meant to be said, "And, you love Uncle Charlie. It's not a liking which I can completely understand and agree with, but you do." Turning around to look at Tyler, I smiled compassionately. The one personality tribute which Tyler seemed to have acquired from me was her sense of control and order. Therefore, she was packed and ready to go already; despite the lack of motivation she held towards the idea.

"But, _you_ don't like Uncle Charlie. You both hate each other. It's going to be no fun, at all," Tyler insisted, rolling onto her back to look dramatically up at the ceiling. "I want to stay home."

Not able to help the wave of guilt which rushed through me, I bit my lip. My stubbornness would never be able to be placed aside long enough to call a complete truce with Charlie; but, perhaps we could _pretend_ like everything was perfectly sunshine and rainbows between us. At least for Tyler's sake, if any. She was the one, after all, who would be most affected if our fighting continued over the course of the next few months.

"'Hate' is an extremely harsh word, Tyler," I found myself saying after a moment's hesitation. "Uncle Charlie and I don't hate each other. It's impossible to hate family."

"You told Daddy that you hated him," she whispered, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. The comment struck me like a knife through the heart. It was true, nevertheless. Just a day before his death, Ron and I had argued worse than ever before. It had ended with me irrationally screaming that he was selfish and that I hated him for it. It had been completely ill-advised that Tyler had been in the next room over while the argument had raged.

Tears stung in the back corners of my eyes as I remembered the hurt on his face after those words were uttered. "People say horrible things when they are argry or upset," I murmured, my voice cracking with retained emotion, "Things that they don't necessarily mean."

"Do you miss him?"

"Everyday, Sweetie."

Tyler smiled miserably, her deep blue eyes brimming with tears, "Me too."

It was the first time in months that we had even neared the subject of her father, never mind opened up about it. There was just too much to say to get it all out at once. It would take too much energy out of the both of us to do so. Consequently, we had come to an unspoken agreement that we would slowly, and steadily, release our feelings. I desperately wished that I could be the rock that Tyler needed to hold herself up about the loss, but I knew I couldn't. That was why Harry had become such a common face in the house. Tyler constantly opened herself up to him, knowing that she wouldn't be able to say certain things straight to me.

"I know," I said, quickly sitting beside her on the bed and gently drawing her into my lap. She shook with quiet sobs as I soothingly ran my hand over the back of her head, wishing I could bask in the release of tears, also.

"It's n-not fair," she whimpered, so softly that I needed to strain myself just in order to hear, "W-We needed h-him. He sh-shouldn't have left us. He _k-knew_ we needed h-him."

"I know," I repeated, looking out of the window and into the surrounding woods of our property. Regardless of how much I tried to suppress it: the pain, the suffering…It never really seemed to come to an end. At least, not before it consumed everything, making me quake in its wake. Forcing me into a half-life. A life that felt like something far into the shadows between life and death. Never quite living, no matter how hard I attempted to. Never quite able to cry, no matter how much I tried to force it.

* * *

For the first time in my life, I was, to some extent, terrified to enter the Burrow. The house which had been my home away from home since my adolescence. The crooked sign marking the place for its name no longer seemed comical. Actually, I vaguely was reminded of the jagged signs in Muggle horror movies, warning the unknowing victims of the "Danger!" that was to come. 

It was all quite silly, I reasoned with myself. My mind was getting ahead of me, making the situation far more dramatic than it truly needed to be. It was not that big of a deal, really. Tyler and I were about to simply take a…vacation -yes, that's a good word for it- away from our normal, everyday routines. The fact that I would be living along side the Antichrist was merely an added bonus to test my wits and keep me sharp in case Harry came to find that I'm needed in this new fight.

"Mummy, are we going to go in now? It's chilly!" said Tyler, who was now persistently tugging on the sleeve of my cherry colored jumper.

It was only then that I realized that it was, indeed, _very_ chilly. Winter was coming around with a bang, that was for sure. I could feel the cold nipping at the skin of my cheeks, no doubt causing them to stain with redness. Tyler was, at this point, jumping up and down, pivoting quickly from foot to foot. Not able to withhold a chuckle, a swept her up into my arms as she continued to bounce within my grasp. "Alright, alright. Lets go," I resigned, brushing her nose playfully with my own. Her eyes shined in response as her tiny, mitten-clad, hands came to a rest upon my shoulders. One fist balled gently in my hair.

"What about our bags?" she asked, only slightly interested in all actuality.

"We'll let Uncle Harry get them since he is such a magnificent person full of compassion and care."

"Are you being sar…sarcis…?"

"Sarcastic?" I supplied helpfully, brushing back her fringe in order to watch the brief band of concentration run across her face in an attempt to come up with the answer herself.

"That's the one!" She grinned, dimples rising charmingly across her rosy cheeks.

"In that case, yes."

Balancing Tyler in my arms with one hand, I reached out to push open the door of the Burrow. The warmth of the home hit me with the force of a wrecking ball, causing gooseflesh to ignite across the back of my neck. Tyler and I sighed simultaneously in satisfaction as the frigid air slowly seeped from the creases of our clothing and skin.

"There you two are!" Harry exclaimed exasperatedly, pushing the door open with more force than really required as he walked into the foyer from the kitchen, "Charlie has been waiting for an hour. The least you could have done was be on time, Hermione. It isn't as if he enjoys this plan all too much, either."

Unable to prevent the eye roll elicited from his declaration, I snorted to myself and set Tyler on her feet at my side. "Poor, poor Charlie. Whatever can we do to make it up to him for being _such_ a nuisance? Shall I just leave? Perhaps -and I know this is a shocking idea- we should stay home and not be shipped off like some common postage stamp?" My tone was quite sarcastic, even for me. What was I supposed to say to him, though? The fact that Charlie was annoyed with the delay did nothing to receive any sympathy from me. In fact, I wish he had just left and hadn't bothered to wait for us. The idea that he _did_ wait was rapidly making my blood boil in annoyance. Maybe Harry would have pushed aside this ridiculous scheme and would have let Tyler and I stay where we wished to stay had Charlie neglected to finally fall at the feet of Harry's desires.

"Good day to you, too," a deep, gruff voice murmured from the kitchen doorway. If the owner of the voice hadn't sounded so bloody amused with the whole situation I probably would have just shrugged off the remark and continued to seethe on and on to Harry. Unfortunately, he seemed unable to resist a _highly_ entertained smirk when I spun to look his way and I suddenly felt the palm of my right hand begin to tingle in a firm desire to wipe the expression permanently off his face.

"Is it _really _a good day?" I asked, my voice sounding far different than the eerily calm monotone that had become a comfort to seek shelter in over the last year. Up until recently, I doubted that I had raised my voice at all for longer than I could remember; though, it did not take a philosopher to figure out around what time in my life the need to drift into the background began. Charlie, it seemed, was determined to shatter my peace. Hell, he already _had _destroyed it by agreeing to this whole ordeal. In fact, I was damn sure that it was even before the agreement, our row at the Burrow, that had ruined everything. And I severely disliked him for it. "How dare you! You despicable bastard. Rushing us as if the world was solely rotating in order to satisfy your every need. You are _not _the king of the universe, Charlie. In fact, you are nothing. No one of importance. You stroll in here as if I have every reason to bow down and spit out apology after apology for being a tad latter than expect. Well, guess what? You can go screw yourself…"

Harry's arms were suddenly around my waist, pulling me into a bone-crushing embrace that caught me off guard, yet proved to be much needed. The moment my head came to a rest against his chest and the soft, subtle pounding of his heartbeat filled my ears, I realized how wound up I had been making myself. It had become customary, each time I found myself in the arms of my best friend, that I match my breathing to his. Usually, the change needn't be dreadfully challenging. On most occasions our hearts would be working as one solitary unit by the second breath of air. Today was different, though. My heart was beating erratically and my breaths were coming in short gasps. Had I been normal, this would have been the time where I threw my face into the warm strength emitted off of Harry and cried. I wasn't the least bit normal, therefore I merely sat and attempted to slow my heartbeat while my eyes stung with unshed emotion for what seemed to be the millionth time that week.

I felt as if I were standing, in that same position within Harry's arms, for hours on end. In reality, it took all of two minutes before I allowed myself a last solitary deep breath of air and pushed away in order to collect myself. It was only then that I felt the patch of warmth upon my hip bone, causing my head to jerk down in momentary confusion.

The sorrowful glow of Tyler's eyes burned into the jean-clad skin of my legs, her forehead resting upon my hip as her small, gentle hands grasped my thigh in a fragile hug. She seemed just as lost as I was in that brief glance; however, the moment my attention was detected, her eyes jerked up towards mine and her face relaxed into a practiced neutral state.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," I murmured. Completely opposite the sound of minutes prior, this time my voice had come out recognizable. Gentle, maternal, loving, and considerate. A voice that Ron once said was the voice of an angel. His angel. It seemed decades away from times like that, times where I used to solely pride myself on being _his_.

"You are sad, but you weren't crying," Tyler stated, pointing out the obvious as if it was just that…obvious, yet had needed to be stated nevertheless.

A tired smile turned up the corners of my mouth as I bent down in order to place myself at her eyelevel. It was a trick that I had always used, making myself as small as she to prove that her voice counted just as much as mine did. That her voice would always count just as much as every other person in this world's did. We were all created equal. "I didn't mean to not cry."

"Is crying okay?" she asked, her young brain always insightful.

Harry was the one to answer, even though I had already begun opening my mouth in response. He was abruptly squatting on the floor just to my side, gazing at his goddaughter with the warm eyes of someone who truly cared.

For as long as I had known him, which had now been almost fourteen years, I had always knew that he was compassionate. To his friends and his enemies. It was not something Harry was necessarily proud of, but it was something that I had always loved him for through thick and thin. Yet, no matter how many times his humble nature and understanding ways had been displayed first-hand to me throughout the years, I had never seen him as gentle and kindhearted with anyone as much as I had with Tyler. She was simply adored by him in everyway. Watching his protectiveness and love for my daughter never ceased to amaze me. "Of course it is," I heard him murmur, "It takes a truly strong individual to be able to cry in front of others. Crying is a sign of feeling. A natural action in life."

"Are you sure? Because Mummy never cries anymore," Tyler said, disbelieving his word over my actions.

"I'm positive," Harry assured her, casting a sidelong, meaningful look my way.

"Uncle Harry is absolutely right, Tyler," I hastily agreed, smiling as warmly as possible while contemplating his words. Was my not being able to cry simply a sign of weakness? Was Harry truly right? If so, my whole view would be thrown for a loop. I had always felt that my body's inability, over the last year, to cry was simply a way of remaining strong through the loss of Ron.

"We'd better chivvy along, though," Harry grinned, standing up again as if he only just remembered that we had somewhere we were supposed to be, "Seems Uncle Charlie is getting antsy."

We all turned to look behind us, myself only just realizing that the beast was still in the room. I held back a bark of laughter when I saw that, sure enough, Charlie was definitely getting restless. He was fidgeting his hands, tapping his foot impatiently, all while clucking his tongue and looking up at the ceiling. When he noticed our gaze, he immediately stood up straight regarding us with innocent eyes. "What?" he asked, so naively that even _I _had to admit it was slightly endearing.

"Aren't you ready?" I asked, brightening from the earlier events already. Well, perhaps it was more like changing the subject at the earliest convenience. Either way, it worked to Charlie's advantage as well as my own. He wanted out just as much as I did at this point. Away from Harry, at least.

"Uncle Charlie," Tyler sighed, "You need to pay more attentin."

"It's 'attention,' Love," Harry laughed, winking her way. She smiled and hid her face in my thigh again, always positively charmed by any of her uncles.

Charlie was grinning, too, by this time. One thing that I couldn't hold against him was the besotted stupor that came over him because of my daughter's bashful, adorable ways. It was the same with every person that crossed her path. It was a known fact that young Tyler Rae Weasley was simply captivating.

"Are we flooing?" I asked, directing the question at Harry.

Charlie was the one to answer, though…Big surprise, "'Course not, Granger. We're apparating."

"Apparating? Isn't it too far?" I asked, _again _directing my question at Harry.

_Again _Charlie answered, "Well, yeah. But, we're going to go half way first and then continue on to the reserve. Apparating is much safer than flooing…It's less easy to monitor. Of course, there are still risks. That's why we'll be pairing up for the transit."

I ignored the fact that the word "transit" once again made Tyler and I sound like a parcel of post, preferring to target the more trying topic at hand. "Pairing up?"

"Yes," Harry said, finally finding a break between Charlie's quick replies. His tone already sounded slightly subdued and apologetic. I didn't quite understand why until he spoke again. "We'll be having to perform side-along apparitions."

"That's fine," I said, still oblivious of the reason of his rueful expression, "I've apparated with Tyler before."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry winced, "But, Charlie and I have already discussed this earlier. It'll be safer if each of you were escorted by one of us…You know, just in case we are intercepted."

I had to bite my lip in order to resist a frustrated scream. After all, I knew they were right. No matter how much I wanted to make myself believe that I could easily fend off any attacker while guarding Tyler at the same time, I couldn't. Nor could Charlie. Which led me to resist another scream…He'd have to be the one to bring me. Harry was the strongest of us three, no matter how humble he tried to be about it. It was just the way things were, and he would be the one who could most easily take on a group of Death Eater while also protecting my daughter.

"Perfect opportunity, Sweet thing," Charlie smirked, using the pet name teasingly as he opened up his arms welcomingly, "Care to cope a feel?"

"You are incorrigible," I grumbled, glaring at him in disgust while my face blushed red at the mere thought. I hated when I let people get to me, and it seemed that Charlie was definitely able to put chinks in my armor. The git. I knew that the only reason he wasn't objecting to this was that he knew how much the very idea would make me seethe. He loved to rile me up just as much as I loved to tear him down.

"Not incorrigible, just insatiable," he grinned, raising an amused eyebrow at me challengingly. "What are you…afraid? Just get your arse over here so we can leave already."

I glanced over to Tyler, finding her already situated in Harry's arms while he tickled her tummy and joked around with her. Neither of them were paying the two of us any mind. I looked back to Charlie, "You hold onto my shoulders…No where else."

"'Course," he responded, nodding his head yet not getting rid of the damned smirk.

With a sigh, I trudged over to him and stood a foot in front of him, "Okay."

"Good," Charlie said, glancing over my shoulder, "All right Harry?"

"All right, Charlie."

"Excellent," was all I heard Charlie reply before he pulled me smack up against his body and I suddenly felt the familiar chilly pressure that apparition brought on. The sensation seemed to ignite my whole body one nerve at a time, pushing and pulling at my flesh for hours; yet, in all actuality it was all of five seconds long before I felt a solid boundary beneath the soles of my feet, causing me to rock in unsteadiness. The only things that kept me from falling right smack down on my face as reality resurfaced, were the muscles which were snugly wrapped around my waist and lower back.

"I told you to only hold my shoulders," I mumbled, still feeling the web of the transportation clouded around my eyes.

"Well," Charlie whispered huskily in my ear, not sounding the least bit fazed and not breaking the embrace at all, "I didn't have a good enough grip. Didn't want to lose you."

"Yeah, as if I'm supposed to believe that."

"You don't have to," he shrugged, I could almost _hear _the smile in his voice.

"Fine, I won't," I huffed, leaning back from him quickly. I wasn't quite accepting of the natural response that my body was having to the deep contours of his voice, the reverberating of his chest against mine, or the way his muscles seemed to mold into my own. It was disconcerting and not acceptable to even be remotely aware of it at all. Besides, this was Charlie Weasley we were talking about here. We weren't on very great terms presently and I figured we had enough conflicting points-of-view between us to keep the anger alive.

"Fine," Charlie said, his tone still remaining amused, "Besides, I have plenty of time these next few months to make you see things my way."

I hadn't the slightest idea what he meant by the statement, nor did I have time to react to it. His arms fell back around me, holding onto my hips as pressure once again built up and we apparated away. Away to Romania and a future that no longer seemed clear or predictable to me.

* * *

**AN: I am so sorry that it took so long for this chapter. It isn't even that long, but it was the best I could do. My sister recently had a baby so it's been chaotic on my end. I am planning to pick up a little more speed on these updates...Okay, a lot more speed. But, I hope you enjoyed this. It wasn't very humorous, but it was, I think, needed. Read and Review :)**


	3. Adjust

If I had thought Apparating once was an uncomfortable feeling, it was nothing compared to the queer sensation that built up within my body upon the back-to-back Apparations that Charlie had yanked me along through. My body felt as if it had been literally drained of all energy and instincts. The second which I felt the awe-inspiring pressure dissipate, signaling our arrival at wherever the Hell we had arrived at, my whole body slumped. All of my weight was placed upon Charlie who, much to my chagrin, had come out of our transit method looking quite perky and fresh. Not tired at all.

As much as it displeased me to admit it, I couldn't help but admire Charlie's magical abilities. I realized, now, that not only had Harry wished for me to go with Charlie in case of an ambush. Actually, what really had made Harry stir with concern was the doubt of whether or not I would call forth the strength needed to handle two consecutive Apparitions all by myself. As much as his lack of faith peeved me to no end, my logical side reasoned how correct my best friend had been in his original presumption of my powers. After all, there I was -presumably in Romania- limp and useless in the arms of the one man who irked me into madness . . . And to think, I had only been the passenger!

"If you're going to throw up, please do it far away from me," Charlie said, sounding as if he were desperately trying to avoid laughing at my expense. His deep, husky voice seemed to linger in my ears and in the ill at ease fog which had swelled in my head. Every word he spoke seemed to reverberate off the corners of my mind, emphasizing his teasing and heightening my aggravation. If I hadn't _actually_ felt too nauseous to speak and too dizzy to move, I most likely would have taken great pleasure in smacking the smirk -which I couldn't see but could definitely hear in his voice- clean off of his face. I had decided that the revelation which I had thought up while packing back at my cottage -the one where I imagined that Charlie and I could at least pretend to be civil to each other for Tyler's sake- was completely hopeless. The whole thought of even trying to be considerate in the presence of Lizard-Git-Charlie made my insides squirm.

"Are you all right?" I faintly heard Charlie ask, causing me to internally scoff. If I had actually had the strength needed to force my mouth into forming any coherent words, I would have asked him if I _looked_ quite 'all right,' to him, in the most sarcastic and patronizing voice which I could muster. Since I couldn't say anything at all, however, I let my mind analyze the sincere concern which had shown through his question quite obviously. Since when had he given even a moderate damn about whether I was okay or not okay? After all, over the last few days he had done nothing to dissuade my belief that he had soothing dreams every night about me being run over by a herd of hippogriffs. He probably thought the very idea of me being trampled was about as beautiful as I thought him being castrated was.

I felt myself being shook somewhat after a few moments of complete silence, "C'mon, Granger," Charlie muttered, "Open your blasted eyes."

For a solitary moment I felt horrible and guilty for making him fret in such a way. My eyes felt as if someone had permanently fastened them shut and it took the jaws of life for me to force myself into opening them. I hesitantly blinked up into Charlie's worried, dark, aquamarine gaze, feeling as if I were waking up from an overpowered Sleeping Draught. My eyelids felt heavy and my head bobbed backwards, unable to remain upright. I vaguely was aware of Charlie's arms tightening around my waist.

"You scared me to Hell and back, there, Granger," he said, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe he had actually been worried about me.

I felt a slight frown pull the corners of my mouth down as I raspily and unattractively whispered a quiet, "Sorry." I didn't even have a clue as to why I was apologizing to him. It might have been the expression on his face when I first opened my eyes. It was almost flattering to let my mind think and imagine that he really cared.

Charlie's body had relaxed against mine considerably and he blew out a long sigh of relief, "I thought I had killed you there for a second. I was scrambling to think of some way to explain it to Harry. I mean, no offence Granger but Potter frightens me at times. He's far from being on my list of people I'd love to pick a fight with during my lifetime. Got a temper to rival Mum's, he does."

Whatever delusion I had worked myself into at that point, was immediately shattered. He didn't give donkeys' arse about me or my well-being. "So glad to know you were worried about me," I muttered sarcastically, my voice coming out as a pathetic croak as a sharp pain began to ache in the back of my throat.

I instantly tried to disengage myself from his grip, having had enough of the increasingly awkward close proximity. I placed a hand on his shoulder, biting my lower lip to hold back a groan of exhaustion. My feet lazily followed what my mind was telling them to do and I sighed in satisfaction as I shakily stood up. Immediately, Charlie had a hand on my lower back as a precaution while I wavered back and forth on the spot.

"Anytime, Granger," Charlie said, somewhat distractively. It took me a few moments to register that his response was to my ridiculing comment. His voice was only faintly amused, as if he were entertained by the situation but was also thinking of something else entirely different from what was happening at the very moment.

"You can let go of me, now," I bit out, trying to sound annoyed, but only managing pitiful.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at me, "I don't know about that, Granger." His expression left no doubt in my mind that he severely lacked faith in my balance and stability. Also, there was a large part of me who knew that he hadn't been pulling my leg when he said he was frightened of what Harry's reaction would be if something happened to me.

Harry had never been known for having a laid-back nature ever in his life, even before the war. No, Harry was known for being impatient, fretful and utterly impossible to handle sometimes. All were traits which had merely become more prominent following the war and Ron's death. A part of me knew he was only like that because he feared something happening to another person whom he loved. There were times when I could sense his gaze on me as I did chores or read. It was times like those where -if I glanced up in time- I could see the lingering fogginess of desperation and fright in his emerald eyes. As if he were waiting for something to happen to me. Waiting for me to be taken away from him forever.

It was not as if I could accuse him of it, though. I knew that he, at times, caught a similar haunted expression in my eyes. I knew it was the worst when we were bidding each other good bye following an outing together or just when he would come over to my cottage to spend some time with Tyler. It was times like those which had us both lingering on our parting embrace, silently praying that whomever was watching down on us kept the other safe from harms way. I knew that if anything happened to me, Harry would never know what to do with himself. It was the same for me if anything happened to him. That was why he was so Hell bent on shipping me off to a dragon reserve far away from the Wizarding World's dark times.

Grounding myself in reality, I scowled at Charlie, "I can take care of myself. Let go."

It took less than a second after Charlie released me, holding up his hands in surrender, for me to stumble. My legs were shaky and the moment I shifted one foot to inch forward, I was tumbling toward the floor. I felt Charlie's, now familiar, arms re-wrap themselves around my torso as he pulled me backwards to rest against his chest. The curses he was mumbling in annoyance beneath his breath were enough hints for me to figure out how obnoxious he probably thought I was acting.

"I really don't know why Harry sent you all the way to Romania to try and protect you," he muttered, his breath hot against the side of my neck, "You're in more danger from yourself than from any Death Eater."

I didn't know what the shiver that raced down my spine was a reaction to, but I played it out as a tremble of irritation, "I resent that."

"Well, I resent you," Charlie shrugged as his arms loosened their hold upon me, leaving just his hands upon my hips as his body pressed against my back. Our position was not doing anything to calm me down. I could feel every muscle of his well-defined chest and abs, muscles that were, without a doubt, souvenirs of a decade's worth of work as a Dragon Tamer.

"I'll have you know that I'm an extremely likable person," I huffed, childishly crossing my arms over my chest even as I slumped against him sleepily.

"I don't doubt that for a second, Granger," Charlie laughed, a sound that I found oddly charming.

There was a faint popping noise from just ahead of us, suddenly. No doubt signaling Harry's arrival with Tyler. Charlie reflexively went to turn toward the noise, but stopped at my loud groan of objection as I continued to rest against his chest. My eyes were already beginning to shut every few moments. When I was able to hold them open at all, I found that my vision began rapidly blurring in exhaustion. I did, however, push myself enough to seek out Tyler for a few seconds just to make sure of her safety. She was sleeping, looking as drained as I felt, yet she looked perfectly healthy otherwise. I was beginning to think that a nap was the most beautiful idea that had crossed my mind in months. I continued to watch her for only a few more moments before my eyes fell shut again against my will.

"She's a little drained," I heard Harry whisper, no doubt having earned a worried glance from Charlie. "I tried to stay as long as I could at my midway point in order to keep her from tiring. Needless to say, it didn't work. She's still as weary as she would have been if I had done both transits, one after another."

"She would have been all right if you'd stayed 'bout another five minutes before doing the second Apparition," Charlie responded, his arms shifting as I moved my head for it to fall back comfortably on his shoulder.

I could almost imagine Harry frowning, "Well, I couldn't bring myself to take the chance. The longer we stayed at the midway, the more time someone had to locate and trace our trail. No chances. That was our agreement, Charlie. Take no chances with Tyler or Hermione's life."

I absently felt Charlie's chin tip downwards and lightly brush against my forehead, as if he were looking at me. For a second, I wanted to say something. Prove to them that I wasn't completely conked out yet. I wanted to tell Charlie that I trusted him, because I did. Trust him, I mean. No matter how much we fought and didn't get along, one thing I knew for sure was that Charlie would never willingly let anything happen to my daughter or myself.

That was the last thing I thought before sleep finally took me away.

* * *

I dreamt of Ron again. It had become habit for me to do so. In over a year now, I hadn't experienced one dreamless sleep. I had once even tried taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion prior to bedtime. It hadn't worked for some reason. I had marked it all up under the simple fact that my dreams and nightmares weren't something that I could run away from, no matter how much I tried to do just that. 

Sometimes in a slumber, I experienced the most beautiful dreams that an imagination could possibly think up. Dreams of what could have been, the life I could have been living, had Ron not died. These dreams always had me waking with a smile and snuggling into my pillows, which I still thought smelt of his scent. These dreams made me happy that, even if I couldn't have the real person, I could at least have Ron in small, subtle ways. It was better than nothing.

Other times, I woke up sweating and screaming from nightmares of a most horrid nature. I would shiver for hours even after I had awoken. Over the last few months I had become accustomed to placing a Silencing Spell on my bedroom door. It had only taken two nights for me to realize how awful it most likely was for Tyler every time she heard my cries and had to race in to wake me up from my terror-filled sleep.

This time, however, I had experienced the second option. A nightmare that had been plaguing me since the other night when Harry had made his decision for Tyler and I to go to Romania with Charlie. All the nights since, the scene had been the same. I was walking down the steps of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry toward the Great Hall for supper. At the bottom of the large staircase was Ron. He leant against an old, stone wall and was animatedly using his hands to explain something to Harry, who stood beside him.

If I hadn't already known what would happen, the scene would have been lovely. An exact replica of the way things were at better times, back when it was just Harry, Ron and I and a happiness like no other. Sure, each year of Hogwarts seemed to bring one version of Hell or another; yet, the school had symbolized safety for all of us. A home. To this day I find it ironic that the same school would be a host to such tragedy.

In my dream, Harry was always the first to notice me coming down the steps. He would smile at me gently and then nudge Ron, who would look up and break into an enormous grin. We were always young in my dreams. Merely fifteen or sixteen. We never grew older than that. Even in my dreams it was hard to think that the girl who was imagined in front of my eyelids was really how I was back then. That this teenager was only a year or two away from admitting her feelings to her loved one, only two or three years away from being a parent and less than a decade away from losing her whole heart and soul.

For the last few times that I had experienced this dream, I always smiled back at Ron at this point. Calling out a pleasant greeting which he would return immediately. Then, Harry would disappear and Ron would become unexplainably somber. The scenery would fall away, changing from a gorgeous castle to a bloodied battlefield. Terrified shrieks would puncture the air, lightening would clash in the reddened sky and the Ron whom I loved would slip away. He would change from loving to scorning. "You don't love me anymore," he would always say.

This was the part that always changed. No matter what, I always responded with different remarks following this point. This time I shook my head, "That's a lie! You know I do!" Tears were pouring down my face as he stared hatefully into my eyes.

"Don't fuck with me, Hermione!" Ron snapped, raising his hand to strike me across my cheek, "Don't lie!"

"I'm not," I sobbed, quivering all over after falling to the ground by the sheer force of his strike, "I promise!"

"You don't love me! Everything you said was a lie! Why should I believe a Mudblood like you? You took _everything_ from me! You _killed_ me!"

"I didn't," I cried, not knowing what to do to make him believe me. Not knowing what to do to make myself believe, either. My knees shook as I brought myself up upon them to stand again, only then noticing all the blood. The field was literally made of it. Every strand of grass was red and became a puddle of blood the moment I touched it. My whole body was covered in gore.

"STOP LYING!" He roared, raising his hand to hit me again, "You killed me! You just stood there and watched me die you pathetic bitch!"

"No!"

"Admit it! You're useless! You screwed me over and now you just want to forget . . . To go fuck my own _brother_!"

My head shook frantically on its own accord, "Ron, I don't . . . "

"Filthy whore!" Ron growled, kicking me in the stomach and sneering down at me as I crumpled in pain. "I'll make you know what it feels like . . . ," he maliciously assured, his voice firm with cruelty and loathing, "What death feels like."

"NO!"

I felt hands upon my shoulders, rough hands which made me shriek more in terror, batting them away in fright. "Hermione," a voice whispered, deep yet gentle. "It's only me. Harry."

My eyes shot open and the moment they connected with the tender green of Harry's, I bolted into his arms. Tears continued to fall down my face and I my whole body shook in sorrow. I couldn't bring myself to raise my head from its place right over where his heart was. The beating soothing me unlike any other.

"Oh, Sweetheart," Harry mumbled, kissing the crown of my forehead. I felt bad at times like these, already knowing that he had grief of his own to worry about and didn't need the added bonus of mine on top.

"Why won't it stop hurting?" I asked desperately, burying my head into the comfort of his warm shirt.

"I've been asking that question for just as long as you have and the answer still evades me," he replied, taking my shoulders gently so that he could hold my body slightly away from his. Harry smiled reassuringly for a moment, "Charlie, can you stay here for a moment? I want to go check and make sure Tyler is still sleeping."

My whole body froze both at the idea of Charlie seeing me in such a vulnerable state and at the idea of Charlie in general. I could almost feel an actual kick to my stomach, reminding me of Ron's words in my sleep: "_You screwed me over and now you just want to forget . . . To go fuck my own_ brother."

"Sure thing, Harry," came Charlie's response. I refused to look anywhere but down as Harry kissed my forehead again and pushed off the bed to stand. I stared at the blanket which was scrunched in my lap, covering my lower body. It was the color of a classic rose and felt magnificent against my skin. I had a feeling that Harry had been the one to tell Charlie the way I would prefer my room to look. My favorite color was red and I had always been fond of roses. Ron used to laugh and say that it wasn't a surprise. "_I can definitely understand that,_" he would tease, "_Beautiful to the eye, but if you don't watch out you'll discover the thorns_. _Who does that remind you of?_"

I lifted my gaze to look up at Charlie from under my eyelashes when he settled down beside me on the bed. I tried to be sly about my quiet, slightly scared, observation of him; but, he immediately caught me. "That was the second time today that you scared the Hell out of me," he mused, smirking to himself, "Aren't we off to a wonderful start to this little arrangement?"

"Shove off," I muttered without any emotion to really back the statement.

"Can't do that right now, Granger," Charlie sighed, "You're stuck with me for a few moments."

I nodded to myself, only barely listening to him at all. Instead, my mind had got away from me. It wasn't as if this was unusual or anything. I was known to over think things often, which usually caused me to drift off in thought more than the average person would. My nightmare hadn't made any sense and now I couldn't hold back images of it.

"I don't want to have sex with you!" I blurted outrageously, looking up at Charlie with a fierce glare as if he, himself, had been the one to accuse me of wanting to.

Charlie nearly fell off the bed in surprise at my outburst. His eyes were wide and his face blushed red in a mixture of embarrassment and shock. He looked like a butch carrot between the red of his cheeks and the red of his hair. "What in the name of Merlin are you talking about, Granger?"

"I...I just wanted to make sure you knew," I hastily amended, trying to save myself from an actual explanation involving a recollection of my nightmare.

"You're barking mad," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Am not! It's a perfectly normal thing to say. To clear the air and all that. I'm just making sure you don't make presumptions."

Charlie laughed unexpectedly, a wicked smile flourishing across his face as he looked at me, "You really think that if I _desperately _wanted to shag a certain woman all she would have to do is say that she didn't want to, in order for me to stop presuming?"

Sticking my nose up in the air I said, "Well, if the woman didn't want the shag I don't see why anyone would persist. They'd have to be completely off their rocker."

"Or just infatuated," Charlie grinned, shaking his head, "You don't understand much about the real world, d'ya?"

"I'll have you know that I'm considered-"

"-The smartest witch of the age . . . Yeah, I know," he said, "Has anyone ever explained to you the difference between being book smart versus learning from experience? You, Granger, are the definition of a bookworm. How the Hells do you expect yourself to know anything about what you can't learn from a book or diagram?"

"That's just not fair! I know very much!" I quickly defended, peeved that he was tearing down the one thing that set me apart from others. I was average in height, weight and looks. There wasn't anything significant about me from the eyes of an onlooker. My intelligence was all I had.

"I'm not saying you're not smart, Granger. Even the world's biggest fool would recognize your brilliance, but do you really know anything about reading people or the real world? I mean, besides the war and defending yourself. I already know that you know that stuff. You wouldn't be alive right now if you didn't. Yet, do you know simple, basic knowledge that girls who didn't have two best guy friends growing up, know?"

I found myself glaring at him in loathing, hating that he was trying to draw me out of my element. After all, he was actually correct. I had never been a great personality judge, and I didn't know a damn thing about men besides what I saw in Harry and had seen in Ron. I had a tendency of thinking the best in all men, automatically thinking that each one had the same wonderful personalities that Harry and Ron did. "Of course I do, Lizard-Git," I lied confidently.

"Yeah, well we'll just have to see about that," he said, almost challengingly, "Whenever the next poor bastard comes along and persistently wants to get in your knickers."

"Why do you always berate me?" I hissed, crossing my arms protectively over my chest.

Charlie held a hand up to his heart in mock appall, "Berate you? I do _not_ berate you!" His voice was humorously dramatic and if I hadn't been fuming at him, I probably would have fell into a laughing fit. "I simply criticize your many faults."

"I don't have faults," I said pathetically, internally cursing Charlie into the fiery pits of Hades.

That had Charlie chuckling and leaning over to pat the top of my head like some ruddy mutt, "Poor, poor Granger. So young and naive."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Yes, well we can't all be imbecile men who refuse to grow up and act their own age." Then, I forced my expression into one of utter innocence and sincere curiosity, "Speaking of which, _how_ old are you again?"

Charlie's face turned red once more, it was almost adorable how shy he was about his age. It wasn't as if he looked thirty-one. In all actuality, he didn't look a day more than twenty-five. "I really don't like you sometimes."

"Well, I really don't like you at least 99.99 percent of the time. So, I guess I'm getting the worse part of this deal, aren't I?" I was still smiling harmlessly at him, even as I coaxed him into having a loud row right here and now where Harry could hopefully walk in.

I might have belonged in Gryffindor, but I had heard many times from Harry about how scarily close my personality came to being that of Slytherin. He always joked that it was how cunning I could be that really confused him about where the Sorting Hat had placed me. He never meant anything serious by it. Yet, Ron always huffed about how I should just go off and read and study books in Ravenclaw. There had been many times in school where I had wondered if I truly belonged with the brave, daring, and chivalrous Gryffindors. It was always Harry who brought me back into reality, always knowing exactly what to say having been in a situation similar when he had first been sorted.

"She's still conked out," a voice said from the doorway as Harry strutted back into the room randomly and settled down on my other side opposite Charlie. The redhead still looked absolutely livid, but Harry seemed to be too caught up in his own personal conflict to care. "I, uh, actually remembered something that I might, er, have forgotten back at the Burrow."

That had instantly piqued my interest and had me looking at him in nervous bemusement, "What is it?"

Charlie had, also, become more alert and was staring intently at Harry as if expecting the worst. I guess it was better to prepare ourselves. You know, just in case it was truly horrifying news.

"I forgot your luggage!" Harry blurted out. Sure, he had singlehandedly brought about the downfall of Lord Voldemort himself, but that didn't mean the Boy-Who-Lived was any more of an eloquent speaker than a flee was. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione. I was just concentrating on getting you and Tyler here."

Finding this whole ordeal to be highly amusing, Charlie merely sat back and tilted his head while trying to contain his laughter. He obviously didn't understand what the fret was about. I did, though. It meant I would have to _borrow_ something of Charlie's to pass the night over. There was no way that Harry could pop back home and then back all in one day. He'd kill himself trying.

"It's fine," I assured, trying to remain calm and attempting to keep visions of myself in Charlie's old Quidditch jersey out of my head. "It's only for a night, right?" I said, nodding and putting on a fake smile. A smile that I knew Harry could see through easily.

"I'm sorry," Harry responded, looking from Charlie's smirk to my anxiety ridden face, "But, I don't think I'll be able to stop in for another week."

"Another week?" I heard myself squeak, casting a glare at Charlie as he gave a bark of laughter. "But, I can't wait another week! What about Tyler's stuff?"

"Tyler will borrow Charlie's stuff as well, I guess," Harry shrugged helplessly, clearly not happy to be letting me down after he had already forced me into this move against my original will, "You'll have to shrink them, but it'll all end up fine. I promise I'll be here next week. Exactly seven days."

"Why do you have to wait that long?" I questioned, not even wanting to think of having to borrow shirts, pants and pajamas from the likes of Charlie. How embarrassing?

Charlie was the one to answer, his voice coming out cheerful, "He already spoke to me about his arrangement for coming to visit. The days have to spread apart, giving enough time in between for the trail to cool. Also, he'll obviously be using midway points each visit, so coming more often than once a week will slowly wear him into a comma. This is the way it has to be."

The wicked glint in his sea-green eyes did nothing to calm me down. Harry seemed to sense my tension, half expecting me to jump up and hex his bullocks clear off. The moment I began to say something else, my face contorting into anger, he jumped onto his feet, "Well, I'm just going to kiss my favorite goddaughter goodbye and leave her a note. I'll just Apparate from her room. I'll be seeing you soon, Charlie," he smiled, his eyes giving away his hurry, "And thanks for looking out for my girls."

Charlie stood up to offer Harry an enthusiastic hand, "It's my pleasure, Potter. I'll do anything to help out my proper share." I had a feeling that Charlie's enthusiasm had more to do with the flustered state I was now in, and less to do with simply being chivalrous.

"I owe you one," Harry said, clapping the redhead on the back before turning to me and engulfing me in a warm embrace. "I'm truly sorry, Sweetheart," he murmured, kissing my forehead while I buried my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

"I know you are," I whispered back, wishing he could stay so I would have someone understanding to talk to about my nightmare.

"We'll have more time to talk next week," he promised as if reading my mind, "I won't forget and I'll stay as long as I have to."

"You sure?"

"Without a doubt." We squeezed each other to bits for a few more long moments before he kissed my cheek and leaned back with a smile. Straightening up to his full height, he looked back over his shoulder at Charlie and then glanced to me, "You two play nice."

Charlie smirked, "Unlikely."

I huffed and stomped one foot in irritation. "Shut it, you."

"She's so cute when she's wound up, isn't she?" Harry laughed, not waiting for me to answer before quickly backing out of the room. Charlie and I were both silent until we heard the creak of Tyler's bedroom door shutting and then the faint 'pop' of someone Apparating a few moments later.

"So," Charlie said lightly, coming over to stand by my side, "You want to go around wearing my old Quidditch jersey or just my boxers?"

"How about your boxer, sweats, t-shirt and one of the itchy wool sweaters that Molly knits you every Christmas?" I grumbled, just wanting to wear anything but the damn Quidditch jersey. I had never been a fan of Quidditch as a sport. Quidditch playing men, on the other hand. . .

Charlie smirked, "I choose the jersey. C'mon, Granger, chin up."

Easier said than done.


	4. Open

It didn't take very long following Harry's departure for Charlie and me to realize how thoroughly screwed to hell we both were. Our personalities just didn't match up in a compatible way. I was much too bossy, neat and anal, (Which he had no hesitation, at all, in declaring). He, on the other hand, was unorganized, obnoxious, impatient and an overall massive pain in my arse.

Nevertheless, since I was the only one who held any sense of maturity, I kept my objections about him to myself. Every single time that he pointed out one of my many "faults," I bit my tongue and held back the word vomit that I felt rising whenever someone declared something which I didn't necessarily share the same point-of-view with them on. That, I believed, was my only true fault.

My opinion meant everything to me. I had fought dynamically all of my life just to have my opinion heard, just to know that my beliefs would stand for something and matter. Being a Muggleborn was a huge obstacle to overcome throughout my childhood and on. In the eyes of some of the pureblooded, like the Malfoys, I was the lowest form of scum to ever dirty the face of the earth. Certainly not worth so much as a second glance unless it was for the soul purpose of ridding the world of my presence.

It was for these reasons, however, that arguments took on a greater meaning to me. No longer was it a simple exchange over differences in ideas. Now, each argument that I came upon was a significant battle of wits. A chance to prove my intelligence and prove that my voice did matter. It mattered immensely. Therefore, I naturally felt an overwhelming flow of words assembling in my mind and eagerly rushing to spill out of my mouth each time I wished to explain my thoughts or argue a different view to someone. Word vomit. A problem, which Charlie didn't appear to struggle with at all.

Quite contrary to my personality, Charlie became quiet when he was angry or temperamental. It was honestly rather annoying and paradoxical. Whenever one of our rows became too over-the-top, Charlie would slam his mouth shut and get this impatient and positively furious look upon his face. Sometimes, he would growl incoherently. But, never would he say a word until he had simmered down. Though, prior to his simmering it would always be very apparent just by a glance at his face that there was an inner debate raging within his head.

It was absolutely frustrating to me every time he became some sort of introverted mute. One of the reasons for the hatred I held toward that side of Charlie, was that it was always unexpected. We fought enough that I had memorized every aspect of the way he argued, but I still didn't have a firm grip on what, in his mind, took our argument to a higher level. What made him so mad that he had to shut the blazin' hell up and leave the debate as it was? The fact that he didn't shout, rant or rave, louder and louder as the argument was fueled to greater degrees, irked me to no end. I had no idea how to deal with the silence.

Tyler was rapidly becoming irritated by our constant bickering and inability to see eye to eye on any topic, no matter how insignificant. Even if I hadn't been her mother and the one person who knew her most, it wouldn't have taken me longer than two seconds to read the clear expression of annoyance that had surrounded her face for the last two days.

She, thankfully, hadn't awoken in time to hear the rather nasty dispute which Charlie and I had gotten in just minutes after Harry had left. It had only been ignited by a foul comment from the foul man's even fouler mouth after I had been forced into his foul Quidditch jersey.

Perhaps I should have known better before reluctantly agreeing to use the shirt as a pajama top. After all, it was common knowledge that Charlie Weasley was the best Seeker that Hogwarts had seen prior to Harry's entrance into the world of Wizarding sports. It was also common knowledge that the Seeker was usually the quickest and most lean of all players on the entire roster. I don't know how I could have been so stupid as to think that Charlie's muscles had always been so very . . . broad. The jersey strained against my breasts, clearly bringing attention to them despite my desperate attempts to make the fabric un-clingy. One ill-advised comment from Charlie "Smooth" Weasley and I was on my tiptoes, jabbing him in the chest and threatening to hex his bullocks off.

As usual, our argument had led from one thing to another and before I knew it he had demonstrated, for the first time, what happened when he became too mad. The first time I had witnessed his actions I had thought it was adorable, actually. It was only upon waking up the following morning to a new round of nonstop quarrels with him that I realized how much I didn't find it adorable at all. Tyler had awoken to find us arguing about the plans for the day. Charlie had to go to work and had strictly demanded that neither I, nor my daughter, step foot out of the house. Let's just say that the idea didn't bode well with me at all.

That had been two days ago. Two days of imprisonment inside a house that was supposed to be my home away from home for the next few months. Two days with no contact to anyone besides Tyler and Charlie. Two days without a quiet stroll outside just to walk off the stress of a day. I needed those walks. Especially with the stress that came while living under the same roof as the man whom I repeatedly had nightmares where my ex-boyfriend abused me for desiring in a non-platonic way.

The only good news that had come since my arrival, was that Charlie's house had proved to be actually quite suitable. I still hadn't seen the outside of it, though. The inside was comfortable, yet masculine. Sometimes I doubted that Charlie really had been living there for years. Everything from the walls to the furniture seemed to have been carelessly meshed together as one, as if Charlie had simply thrown it all together hastily and at the last minute.

Tyler loved it, despite the nagging she had put up all throughout the first full day of our stay. She had slept right through the first night, awaking around seven. She spent most of the day within the confines of the room that Charlie had so kindly put together for her. She only came out when Charlie returned home from work, having decided to blame me for the move since Harry wasn't around to point the finger at. Even now, two days into her silent treatment, she didn't speak to me unless absolutely necessary. I, however, was very used to such actions and shrugged it off for a good book on the sofa.

The day was bright and the air was cold, that much I knew by a simple glance out of the window to my right. Charlie had asked me to stay away from the windows, but I thought that it was pushing my captivity too far. So, I opened and strayed to the window as often as I pleased. I wasn't going to remain cooped up in the house for another day, that much I assured myself. The moment Charlie came home I was going to force myself out the door.

The book upon my lap was closed and faced down, my attention having wandered roughly twenty minutes prior. My mother had always told me that it was a horrible mistreatment to a beautiful piece of literature to leave a book open, and face down, anywhere. It would injure the spine.

The sun had already reached its climax in the sky a few hours ago. A sky that I itched to be able to watch from out on the top of one of the beautiful mountains which I saw from my bedroom windows every single morning. I felt drawn to nature sometimes. It was the one constant which always seemed dependable. Even my fear of heights had never prevented me from taking hikes to the tallest of peaks as a young girl with my grandfather, before his death.

I heard the sigh release from my mouth, instead of feeling it within my chest. I shook my head slightly, shaking myself out of my daydreaming, and glanced away from the window which had me pining so childishly. The faint sound of the front door opening had me practically leaping to my feet.

"Granger," Charlie said, sparing me a quick glance before moving to head down the hall into his chambers.

Not wanting him to disappear from my sight, I asked, "How was work?"

Charlie stopped walking and turned to me -showing off the numerous burn marks that were spotted across his chest and arms- with a raised eyebrow. "I work with dragons, Granger. It was scorching."

I almost smiled at his sarcastic sense of humor, and probably would have if it hadn't been for the strange sense of worry that rose within my gut at the sight of all of the burns, "Lovely. So it was pleasant?"

"Are you sick?" he asked, looking at me as if I had grown another head. The thanks I get for showing any sign of interest in his life. It was only a small glitch that the interest was completely for show.

Scoffing at his manners, I stubbornly crossed my arms over my chest. I looked away from him for a few calming moments and then finally looked back in order to scan over his injuries. "Do they hurt?" I asked, feeling my stomach knot unexpectedly again.

Charlie seemed taken aback by the concern in my voice. He stared at me with a strange expression in his eyes, before shrugging, "Could have been worse. It happens nearly every day. Kind of got used to it over the years."

I found myself nodding and didn't realize that I was walking toward him until I was less than a foot away from his body, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" he asked, his breath tickling my forehead.

"Keep doing what your doing. I mean, working with dragons is so dangerous."

That received another indifferent shrug, "Don't know. I guess I've always just gotten a rush from the job, knowing that the dragons are stronger than myself or anybody else who works with them."

Nodding in understanding, I turned away and headed in the direction of the bathroom. When I realized that he wasn't right behind me, I looked back, "Are you coming? I'll clean the sores up for you."

Charlie grumbled something under his breath.

"If you don't want my help, fine," I said, annoyed at his unrelenting stubbornness.

Shuffling from foot to foot, Charlie finally gave in. He followed after me as I walked down the hall and directed him into the bathroom first. It was a tiny room, so I pushed him down onto the toilet's closed lid and he landed with a thump. "Didn't know you liked it rough, Granger," he smirked, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"Do you ever behave?" I asked, trying to keep my own entertainment off of my face.

"'Course not, but you like me anyway," he grinned, watching me as I kneeled on the floor in front of him and pulled my wand out of my back-pocket.

"You're going to have to take your shirt off," I muttered, looking down at the floor so that he couldn't see my face flush in embarrassment. I could almost hear the wide grin spreading across his features.

I heard his movement and the soft flow of the material of his shirt caressing his skin as he slid it over his head. "I knew you were just trying to undress me," he chuckled, causing me to look up again.

I'm astonished that I even managed to withhold a gasp. The man, though annoying, was absolutely gorgeous. His skin was covered with scars, burns and tattoos; yet, it was the most desirable sight I had ever seen. He was just as, if not more, freckled than the other Weasley boys and the urge to trace over every single mark on his chest almost overwhelmed me. Obviously, working with giant lizards did wonders to a man's physique.

"Any day, now, Granger," he murmured, leaning down a bit to catch my eye. "It's not like you've never seen it all before."

Another flush ignited across my cheeks at being caught blatantly ogling, "Oh, right." Trying to get my very non-platonic thoughts out of my head, I brought my wand up to Scourgify all of his new wounds.

"I know I'm not exactly a Medi-witch, but aren't you supposed to actually look at what you're doing?" Charlie asked, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him, "Sorry."

His gaze was intense when my eyes met his, "No problem."

"_Episkey_," I whispered, running my wand slowly across the marks as they immediately began to knit themselves closed.

Charlie released a brief hiss of pain, causing me to look up apprehensively. "I'm fine," he immediately responded, managing a small grimace, "Just caught me off guard, is all."

When I was completely done, I hesitantly brought my fingers up toward the inflamed flesh that had just morphed closed, into regular cuts. I placed the tip of my middle finger against the side of one of the marks that was just below a small tattoo of a fireball that looked quite ready to burst from Charlie's skin and ensnare a victim. Unconsciously, my finger moved to play connect-the-dots with a band of freckles that swarmed Charlie's chest.

I didn't realize my error until a calloused hand enclosed around my wrist. "Stop," Charlie whispered, his voice soft as his chest rose and fell as if he were out of breath.

I stammered, completely mortified, "I-I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," he replied, the hand that was grasping my wrist beginning to slide up my arm, bringing with it a shiver.

I found myself caught between two emotions. Fright and desire. This was the man who could enfuriate me more than, quite possibly, any person I had ever met in my entire life. This was the man whom my ex-boyfriend repeatedly bashed me about in all of my nightmares. This was the man that caused so many known, and unknown, emotions to drown me over and over ever since Ron's death. How come I felt on fire under his gaze, and in a good way?

His knuckles were suddenly running over my cheek, caressing my skin. "This isn't a good idea," I mumbled, trying to resist the temptation that he was setting before me.

"Don't you ever shut up, Granger? Stop thinking," Charlie commanded, a wolfish smile turning up the corners of his lips. Lips that, a moment later, were on mine in a firm, passionate kiss.

I don't know what happened. Suddenly, his arms were around my body while his hands trailed down my back, lifting me off the floor to straddle his thighs. All thought of resistance was thrown from my mind the moment his tongue slowly traced my lower lip. My head felt dizzy at the power that he had over me. It was like nothing that I had ever experienced before.

My body had a mind of its own, shifting in his arms to press against him in the most delicious way. Charlie groaned, breaking away from my lips to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down the column of my neck. His bare chest was scorching beneath my finger tips as I absently gave in to the deep desire to trace over all his marks. Every scar, tattoo and freckle.

It wasn't until his obvious arousal pressed intimately against my inner thigh, that my brain caught up with my actions. "Oh, God," I moaned, completely thrown off guard by the entire situation. Completely thrown off guard by the guilt that suddenly closed in on me from all sides. What the bloody hell was wrong with me?

Charlie murmured in agreement against my pulse point, obviously thinking my declaration was for an entirely different reason. His tongue flicked against my skin, almost making me delve back into my unconscious state of desire. Almost.

I pushed away from him, untangling myself from his firm embrace and jumping swiftly to my feet. "We've got to stop. This was a mistake."

"A mistake?" Charlie demanded, still sitting down in front of me with a shocked expression on his face.

"Yes, a mistake. You came onto me," I accused, desperately trying to regain some dignity.

"Sorry, Baby, but the last time I checked, what we were just doing was a two-person activity," Charlie said, his eyes narrowing from shock to anger as he rose to his feet.

"Don't call me that," I snapped, picking up his shirt and throwing it at his head, "Get dressed."

Charlie scowled and yanked the shirt on, "You really are a swot, you know that?"

"A swot? What, just because I know the difference between right and wrong?"

"Right and wrong?" Charlie repeated in disbelief, "We were snogging, Granger, not going skinny-dipping with a herd of Death Eaters."

"We're supposed to live peacefully together for the sake of Tyler," I argued with a huff, turning around and storming down the hall toward the kitchen.

Charlie was hot on my heels, "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a possibility. You're the hardest person in the world to cooperate with peacefully. And damned if I haven't tried."

"You must be joking!" I yelled, turning around with a fierce glare, "The first conversation -if you can even call it that- which we had after my return home, was spent hollering away with you for accusing me of something that I had no control over!"

"You disappeared off the face of the earth for a year! That's not exactly something you didn't have control over!" Charlie bellowed, pointing an accusative finger at me.

"Why do you even care?" I asked, my voice cracking in frustration, "You act as if it's such a big deal. That it's so important for some reason!"

In a blink, Charlie was in front of me, pressing my body backwards until I was cornered against the kitchen counter. His lips were merely an inch away from mine, causing my heartbeat to skyrocket and my brain to turn to mush again, "You up and left without so much as a goodbye."

"I didn't want anyone to try and make me stay."

"Anyone?"

"Mainly a certain someone," I whispered as his sea-green gaze enraptured me once more.

Charlie's breath caressed my skin as he brushed his lips against the corner of my mouth, his nose rubbing against my own, "I could have made you stay."

"You could have," I agreed softly, placing my hands on his chest and gently pushing him far enough away for me to slip through his grasp, "And that's why I left."

"Do you always run from your emotions?" Charlie asked as I moved away in order to go check on Tyler, desperately wanting to end this entire discussion with him. "For someone so courageous, you really know how to repress what you don't want to feel."

"There's nothing to repress," I laughed bitterly, "We barely know each other, Charlie. I feel nothing for you."

Charlie shook his head, "You never were a good liar, Baby. You can't keep pretending that I didn't mean something to you. That I don't still mean something to you. It's the reason for the guilt, isn't it? You hide it all under grief, but I know the truth. I've always known the truth, and that makes you even more scared of just letting go."

Biting my lip, I looked up at him, taking in his hard jaw and blazing eyes, while secretly cherishing the way his old nickname for me flowed from his lips. He was right. No matter how much I pretended, even to myself, that I had no knowledge at all of the man in front of me, it would always be a lie. I would never be able to forget the night before Ron's death. The nights prior to that. The arms I went to for warmth and security. The mistake that I made, over and over, and the way it hadn't felt like a mistake at all.

Even in my mind I had been trying to pretend that the beautifully caring person in front of me, was no one of importance. The other day, at the Burrow, I had actually convinced myself that he wasn't anybody but a brief acquaintance. I was living in a false reality, and I was scared to death of living anywhere else.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Charlie," I whispered, turning away from him and walking down the hall and away from my past grievances.


	5. Remember

_Ron and I had, once again, had a fight. This time it had ended with me irrationally screaming that hated him. Of course, it wasn't true. But, he was never quite able to grasp what I was saying. He always figured that he knew what was best for the both of us and that my know-it-all's personality really meant absolutely nothing when it came down to our arguments. Honestly, how could anyone be so incredibly dim-witted? And_ how _in the name of all that is magical did I end up falling in love with the stupid git?_

_As much as I deluded myself into thinking otherwise, I really did know just how it had happened. Because, it hadn't really happened at all. Instead, I was forced into the_ pretense _of being in love, rather than actually being in it the way my boyfriend and future fiancé thought me to be. It was impossible to fall in love with one man, though, when you already knew your heart belonged to another._

_It was raining when I rushed out of the front door of our cottage during the cover of night. The familiar desire to get away, rose up within me. It wasn't my first time sneaking away from my boyfriend and daughter. It didn't take the slightest bit of thought or hesitation for me to disapparate away from my yard and to the Burrow for the first time in -what felt like- ages. It was unfortunately raining there, as well. Our cottage wasn't exactly on the opposite end of the world. In all actuality, it probably wasn't even on the opposite end of the town. _

_My cloak was soaked through to the bone as I sniffled and moved toward the house that I had come to think of as a home away from home. I didn't go in, though. I never needed to go into the actual residence when I came here, in the dead of night, looking for him. He always somehow knew that I was there. It was really rather convenient._

_He had been staying at the Burrow for a little over a month, having received a nasty shot to his chest at work. This caused him to be put on temporary leave in order to recuperate. The Medi-witches had told him that he couldn't be by himself, and his mum had wasted no time in recommending that he return home until he made a full recovery. I could distinctly remember how he had been so infuriated to be put off of the job for a few months, and how he had declared himself to be in perfect state. Something which I knew only too well. The mark that the injury had left him was completely healed over, not even a scar. Nonetheless, his boss said that there was a possibility that this injury could have caused permanent damage to his heart, and refused to listen to any objections on the matter. _

_Glancing up at the oddly lopsided house before me, I settled myself down on the wet ground. I seriously doubted that it was possible to become even more drenched than I already was. My head tipped back and my eyes closed as I let the peace of the moment enclose around my mind, pushing away the anger and pain that still clung to me from my dispute with Ron. Raindrops slid gracefully down my pale cheeks as the hood of my cloak fell off my head and allowed my unruly hair to plaster to my neck and shoulders. Slowly, all concepts of time drifted from my awareness._

_The only thing that could have relaxed me more than the power of nature at this time, was him. "Hermione?" his voice called, causing me to blink out of my daze and look through the dark fog toward the slowly approaching figure._

_"Charlie?" I asked in return -even though there was no need- while I sat up straight and smiled at the sense of overwhelming happiness that seeing him made me feel. _

_His face swam into focus as he moved closer, allowing me to see the affectionate smile that my presence always brought to his lips. I stood up just as he reached me, giggling in gleefulness as his arms went around my waist and he hoisted my body off of the ground and perfectly against his own."You shouldn't be here," he said, even as he buried his face into the wet crook of my neck and sighed in contentment. _

_Still exuberant, I tenderly kissed his forehead, "You don't mean that. I know how much you love when I come to visit you. After all, its been weeks."_

_"True enough," Charlie chuckled, his hands moving down my back and over my arse, only to come to a stop at the top of my thighs. Upon his silent coaxing, my legs spread to wrap around his lean waist and my arms tightened their hold around his neck. "What are you doing here, Baby?"_

_"What do you think?"_

_"I think that you shouldn't force yourself into staying with Ron. I also think that we should tell everyone the truth instead of pretending we barely know each other whenever our family is around," he said, slowly walking over to a nearby Weeping Willow. It was the same tree that had provided us with shelter and camouflage on a few other nightly visits. All of which had been brought about by similar fights with my boyfriend . . . When I actually managed to sneak out of the house afterwards, that is._

_"We can't do that, Charlie," I whispered, running a gentle hand through his soaked, ginger hair. Making it even more scruffy-looking than usual._

_"This entire situation isn't fair to either of us, Baby," he argued, pressing me back against the wide tree trunk and placing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, "You don't care about my brother the way you care about me. Gods, how many times have you come to me after you guys had a row?"_

_"I love Ron," I defended, cupping his face with my palm and urging him to understand._

_"You're not_ in _love with him, though," Charlie said._

_"He's my best friend, and I have to deal with the consequences of my actions. We have Tyler to think about, not just us."_

_"What if she isn't Ron's? What if she's mine?"_

_"Charlie, we already know that isn't possible. It wouldn't coincide with any of the times we've had sex. We were only together_ once _before her birth and I had already been at least two months along, I just hadn't known it yet," I reasoned while biting my lip in a failed attempt to hold back the tears that were welling up in my eyes. Tears for the happily ever after that no longer existed._

_"Don't cry, Baby," Charlie hushed gently, his lips tenderly kissing away every bead of moisture that fell from the corners of my eyes._

_"I wish it had been you," I whispered, taking a shuddering breath in an effort to stop the waves of remorse that had surrounded me, "I would give anything for you to have been her father. You know that, don't you?"_

_Suddenly, his lips were on mine, stealing away whatever remaining breath I had left in my lungs. His body pressed flush against mine, drawing a desperate groan out of the both of us. His tongue swept into my mouth, caressing my own, and his hands rubbed smooth circles into my thighs."Merlin, I love you," Charlie sighed against my lips, "You have no idea."_

_Both of my hands detached themselves from around his neck to delve into his shaggy hair, pulling just hard enough to draw his gaze directly to mine. "Do you ever doubt how much I love you?" I asked, my voice sounding completely breathless._

_When he didn't answer right away, I kissed him. Taking control and frantically putting all of my pent-up frustration, all of the pain that thousands of minutes wasted away thinking about our hopeless situation had brought me, and all of the love that I had ever felt within my heart for this man, into it. "It isn't fair to you," I breathed against his mouth, "I never have to doubt the way you feel about me. Yet, you're not the one going home to a child and fiancé."_

_"Baby" he started, one hand moving from my thigh to caress my cheek. His hand feeling like heaven against my skin and causing my heart to give a flip in my chest. "I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't jealous. Believe me. I've thought of a million and one ways of killing my bastard of a brother just at the sight of you two together. But, I handle it. Every time that I doubt the way you feel about me, your face pops into my mind and I see that smile . . . That beautiful, secret smile that you reserve only for me, and I settle down. I know you love me . . . You may be able to hide it from our families, or pretend that it's for someone else, but I'm not that easy to play. You love me just as much as I love you."_

_"Charlie?"_

_"Hermione?" he said, in the same tone-of-voice that I had just used._

_"You talk too much," I teased, leaning forward to press more intimately against him and nuzzle his rough cheek with the smooth skin of my own._

_"Well look what pot is calling the kettle black?" he grinned, moving his hands under my shirt so that they could draw pleasurable little designs across my lower back._

_He interrupted my spurt of laughter by possessively capturing my lips with his own, and pushing away from the tree. A few seconds later he pulled back from my embrace, only to shrug off his pull-over and transfigure it into a large, wool blanket. With a sweet smile in my direction, he spread the blanket across the wet ground, before tugging me back towards his body and gently lowering me onto my back on the cozy fabric._

_Charlie settled down above me, bracing his arms on both sides of my body and staring into my eyes. Kissing my cheeks, my temples, my nose, eyelids and chin, Charlie finally met my lips again. The kiss was lazy and adoring, both of us trying to savor the moment for as long as we could. These moments were becoming further and further apart. We hadn't been allowed to express our love with more than kisses for months, now._

_I glowered at him when he rolled off of me, but smiled blissfully when his arm immediately reached out to draw me protectively into his side. I placed a tender kiss upon his neck as I snuggled even closer into his natural warmth. Then, I looked up at the lush overhanging that the large willow provided us with. "Will we always have to sneak around?" I asked, biting my lip for letting the question slip during such a beautiful moment._

_I felt Charlie's sigh reverberate in his chest, before I heard it, "I don't know, Baby. I hope not."_

_"I wish Ron would just cheat on me," I murmured with a slight pout as my eyes began to shut. What I really wished was that this moment would last forever, and that reality wouldn't come barging in on my fairy tale._

_"He'd have to be an idiot to do that," Charlie grumbled, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to him. The best thing that's ever happened to me."_

_"I can't match up to the light you put me in, Charlie," I said, "Nobody's perfect."_

_Sitting up slightly, Charlie reached down and brushed some of my uncontrollable hair from my face, "I know that. But, you're pretty damn close."_

_I smiled widely at him, reaching my hand up to wrap around the back of his neck and to force his lips down onto mine. "The same goes for you."_

_"You just love me for my hot body," he teased, rolling onto his back again and pulling me with him so that I was braced above him with my legs curled up at his side. _

_I laughed, "Well what else is there to love? Your brain?"_

_"Ha ha," he said sarcastically, his eyes lighting up in a way that was reserved only for me and times like these, "We can't all be obnoxiously smart."_

_"Well, I guess just being obnoxious is close enough," I bantered, internally wanting to forever remember how playful he was and how he brought out the best in me. I never wanted to forget that, because if I did I would lose a huge part of myself with it. Being with Charlie was what made me the happiest I had ever been in my life. The idea of ripping myself from him made my throat close up and my stomach drop._

_"Oh yeah?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Well then," he said indifferently, causing me to raise an eyebrow. _

_It took me off guard when a wolfish smirk pulled at the corners of his sexily delectable mouth. All of a sudden, I was flipped backward and sprawled on my back, causing a surprised breath to whoosh out of my lungs. My eyesight blinked back into focus as Charlie's amused face appeared above me, his arms pinning my own above my head as he knelt over my body._

_"Not fair," I breathed out, my lips parted as I looked up at him._

_"Life isn't fair," he joked in reply._

_"It's your job to make it fair," I pretended to sulk._

_"Sorry, but I'm not God."_

_"Thank Merlin. He's finally admitted it."_

_A playful growl rumbled in his chest and I beamed at him, causing an equally brilliant smile to spread across his face. "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?" he asked, kissing the tips of my fingers as I reached a hand up to brush his fringe from his eyes._

_"Have I told you lately how incredibly ravishing you are?" I asked in return, running my leg up the back of his calf and smiling coyly when he groaned, "I'm going to hate having to leave you when you would be so painfully at my mercy if I were to stay longer."_

_Suddenly, Charlie's expression changed. His jovial smile was dropped and his demeanor became serious. Dropping my leg, my mind went blank. What had I done? Why had I ruined the moment by mentioning my inevitable departure? I desperately started trying to ready myself for what I had already foreseen would happen this evening. No matter how much I tried to steel myself for it, though, I couldn't. How do you prepare yourself for the biggest heartbreak that you would ever experience? Especially, when you know the anguish could be easily put off if only you weren't such a bloody coward._

_"I miss this, Baby," Charlie said as he pushed off of me to kneel at my side._

_Moving to kneel in front of him as well, I frowned, wishing I didn't already know where the conversation was about to lead us. We both had been feeling it for a while now, just hadn't been able to talk about it with each other. I knew Charlie wanted to say what had been on his mind, but I also knew that he didn't expect any long-term changes to come out of it. I knew better._

_"I do too," I agreed, "I hate not seeing you as often as I used to. I hate having to leave so suddenly and having to go back to a fake life with Ron."_

_"You have a kid, Baby. With my brother," he said, speaking carefully as if weighing every word, "We both know that isn't going to change. Even if we want it to."_

_"Way to be a killjoy," I tried to tease, but the attempt fell short. My heart was being swarmed, on all sides, by the ugly reality of our situation. I wanted to scream and cry and stomp my foot in anger. Anything to make the cruel truth leave us alone. We were happy and content just seconds before. Why did that have to change? And why so unexpectedly and abruptly?_

_"I just need to get it all out there," Charlie said, looking around before moving to stand._

_I followed suit, clambering to my feet unsteadily. "So," I began, feeling at a loss for words with him for the first time in as long as I could remember. Our relationship had always been smooth sailing. We never even had a single fight. There was nothing to fight about when you were madly in love and more happy than you had ever been before._

_"I don't know what to say," Charlie admitted, the surprised expression that crossed his features telling me that he was just as astounded by that fact as I had been. "One second everything is alright and the next second I'm remembering that the night is coming to an end and you're going to have to leave again."_

_"I know," I murmured, looking anywhere but at him._

_"I don't know how to fix this, Baby."_

_"Maybe," I began, feeling the future heartache rise in my chest, "We should-"_

_"Don't," he commanded, causing me to look straight into his eyes against my better judgment, "Don't say what I know you're going to say." His tone had me crossing my arms over my chest and biting my bottom lip, all while hating how he could read me so bloody well. _

_All of a sudden, I felt massive amounts of terrible guilt close in on me. I was a mother and a girlfriend. I had a boyfriend who loved me and who had been my best friend since the second month of our first year of Hogwarts. A boyfriend who had been there for me through thick and thin, and through triumph and defeat, for years. Maybe we didn't get along all the time, but we cared about each other. He deserved more respect than I was giving him, even if he was a dunderhead for more than half of our relationship._

_"I'm sorry," I said, "But, this isn't a healthy way of life. All this sneaking around and the rushed visits as often as we can . . . This is the first time that I have seen you -for longer than a few seconds at a time- in_ weeks_. How long is it going to be the next time? A month? Maybe even two?"_

_"Please, Baby," Charlie whispered, taking a step toward me and shaking his head, "We can talk about this. Just earlier, we were completely happy. Maybe things can change. Maybe we can just tell Ron the truth."_

_It was like I was watching my own body turn away from the only man that I had ever truly loved above all others, from a whole different perspective. It was as if I had been_Imperio_-ed and had no control over my mouth. My brain had finally kicked in, I realized with anguish, and my heart had no place in the argument anymore._

_"We'll never be able to live together or get married or have kids," I said, shaking my head and blinking back the tears that I knew were just about to brim over, "And I can't just leave Ron. He's Tyler's father and I have so many people who would look down on me with disgust. Their whole view of you would change too, Charlie. Your mum and dad won't just accept this. They'll hate us both." _

_"But we'll be happy!" he argued, "Gods, Baby, I don't need all of that. When I'm around you, you're all that matters to me. Having you is all I need and I don't give a damn what my family thinks!"_

_A sob escaped my lips as I shivered against the cold of the night that I had been numb to just moments before. "I can't live like that," I uttered sorrowfully, "I'm not strong enough to. I can't live knowing that I've ruined your life. Knowing that I'm making my daughter's life impossibly hard and tearing out Ron's heart and making Harry look at me as if I'm beneath him."_

_Charlie ran a hand through his hair, something that I was only just beginning to notice was a clear sign of frustration, "You can't just do this. I know how you feel about me and I'm not giving you up."_

_My eyes shut for a moment, and for a moment I imagined my life had I never gotten involved with Ron. I imagined that I had built up the courage to break it off with him back when I was eighteen and had been thinking about it. I imagined that I hadn't slept with him after getting caught up in the moment of one of his more romantic apologies. Then, I imagined that, months later, when I had some drunken tumble-in-the-sheets with my, at the time, simple acquaintance, he had been the man to father Tyler. _

_But none of that was reality. And I was sick of living in some alternate universe. Some sort of la-la land that actually made me believe life would work out the way that_ I _wanted it to. These thoughts were like a whole new wake-up call for me. These thoughts were what had me squeezing my hands into fists and gritting out the biggest lie I would ever tell in my entire life._

_"We're through, Charlie," I concluded, leaving no room for argument with my utterly frigid undertone. "This whole ordeal was a mistake. A big, stupid mistake. I was an idiot to even think that I could love anyone but my boyfriend. He's all I need . . . Not you. You're not good enough for me, and certainly not good enough for my daughter. I mean, you're a_ Dragon Tamer_. You couldn't even provide for us the way Ron, so easily, can. I must have been off my rocker for mistaking lust for love in the first place. I guess even the 'brightest witch of her age,' has to have a dumb moment once in a while. Don't worry, I won't be coming around again. Not ever . . . "_


	6. Feel

What would you do if you were lying in bed one morning and realized that in a matter of minutes -no matter how much you don't want to- you're going to have to face someone whom you would rather be stomped on by hippogriffs than face? Well, it was the morning after my confrontation with Charlie and, for the life of me, I couldn't think of an answer. Even in my dreams the man would not leave me be. Instead, I was forced to relive the night that everything in my life changed from slightly annoying to dreadfully pointless.

The large number of quilts that surrounded me on all sides was more comforting than anything else had felt in days. The warmth was amazing, almost melting my bones into a puddle of contentment. Almost. Unfortunately, contentment was out of my range of emotions due to the small speck of tension that constantly probed at my brain, reminding me of my problems.

Heaving a sigh, I threw off the quilts in a moment of surprising bravery. The cold air that hit my legs was enough to have me regretting it in an instant. Looking around the room in shock, I noticed the issue. One of the windows was open.

Confused, I quickly crossed the room to slam it closed. I didn't remember having opened it the night before. It's funny what someone will absently do when their mind is too preoccupied with other things.

For a moment I just stood there, staring out of the window that I had just shut and thinking about how everything was going to change . . . Again. Everything was always changing and I was getting sick of it. Why couldn't everything just remain safe and comfortable? I couldn't even _begin_ to count the number of times I had falsely thought that life would just stop and wait for me to catch up with it before moving forward again. Life wasn't like that, though. It just kept going and going, in a whirlwind of tragedies, heartbreaks and wars.

Breathing out a long sigh, I looked down at myself in disdain. I was, for lack of a better word, a mess. The jersey that Charlie had been loaning me to sleep in at night was wrinkled and didn't fall nearly far enough down my thighs to be considered decent to stroll around an ex's house in. The last thing that I needed was for Charlie to, yet again, get more-than-platonic ideas.

I quickly threw on a pair of Charlie's trousers that I had been shrinking into the proper size, and headed out the door of my room. My feet padded against the hardwood panels of the floor as I made my way toward the kitchen. The silence of the house surprised me, making me realize that it was probably earlier than one would normally awake.

Except, apparently, if you wanted to make someone's life completely miserable.

"Morning, Baby," an amused voice greeted as I went down the three steps that separated the hallway of bedrooms from the connected living room and kitchen.

"Charlie," I murmured in return, less-than-enthused, "Just when I thought it _might_ be a nice day."

"Aw, don't be like that," he said, a teasing smile turning up the corners of his mouth in an all-too-familiar way that made my heart flip, betraying my mind's annoyance.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's five-forty," he answered, standing up from where he had been sprawled across the couch. For a second, I simply stared at him. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his hair had that just-rolled-out-of-bed quality to it, and his jeans rode too low for my own comfort on his lean hips.

"What are you doing up this early?" I breathed, desperately trying to keep my eyes on his face . . . Not that _that_ was really any better.

"I was actually waiting for you."

"Oh, joy."

He chuckled, "Yeah, I just couldn't wait to see your bright and chipper face."

"I hate it when you're sarcastic," I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest and practically falling into a chair at the small dining table that stood right in-between the kitchen and couches.

"That's a lie," Charlie said, bracing his hands against the edge of the table and leaning in towards me so that I could smell the cinnamon of his toothpaste on his breath, "You love everything about me."

His face was too close. How was I supposed to keep controlling myself around him when he baited me like this? The sad part was that he _knew_ exactly what he was doing to me. And I hated that my attraction to him was so obvious when I was putting so much effort into remaining indifferent.

"And _you_ are too full of yourself," I said, hoping my voice sounded even half as smooth as I was aiming for.

Charlie's mouth spread into a full-blown smile unexpectedly and I had to bite my lip to withhold a gasp. He really was too handsome to be considered fair. _And_ he had dimples. God, I had a weakness for dimples. "You wait and see, Baby. You can't avoid me forever. We both know that patience is something that neither one of us has."

"Well, I'll just have to try extra hard then," I bit out, rolling my eyes and pushing him away as I stood up.

"Mummy?"

"Tyler! What are you doing up?" I asked, spinning around and moving toward the sleepy-eyed girl in concern. Her red curls were completely askew and her mouth was pulling down in a weary pout.

"I heard you and Uncle Charlie," she murmured, blinking up at me.

"Your mum _is_ pretty loud when she gets all fired up," Charlie said, raising an eyebrow at me to convey his double meaning as I sent a glare his way over my shoulder. As if I really needed the reminder.

"You too," Tyler said, yawning and then smiling as she slowly gathered her bearings.

"I resent that," he said in return, grasping his chest as if his heart was in pain, "I expect things like that from your mother, but I thought you were on my team. Now, I see the truth and boy does it hurt."

"You're a drama queen," she laughed, causing me to smirk and push back her fringe lovingly.

"You don't even know what that means," Charlie said, crossing his arms over his chest smugly.

"Yes I do," Tyler argued, "Uncle Harry told me. He said that Uncle Fred and Uncle George are one too."

Looking over at Charlie haughtily, I laughed, "Must be a Weasley thing."

Rolling his eyes, Charlie shook his head at me, "You love this."

"Well," I said, "Look at the bright side . . . At least you know I love _something_ about you."

"My pain," he nodded, turning to Tyler, "Your mother is the devil and enjoys human torture. Be sure to tell _that_ to Uncle Harry the next time you see him."

"What's a devil?"

"I just told you. Your mum is, silly."

"What's torture?"

"Same answer as before."

"Are you finished?" I asked, "Don't you have somewhere to be, Charlie?"

"Nope," he replied cheerfully, "Today's my day off, Granger, and I figured the three of us could go for a nice, long walk around the preserve. You've been nagging me for days about it, so I figured you're in need of some fresh air."

For a second, I just stared at him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was touched. I knew that this was going against what Harry and Charlie had discussed about our situation. Tyler and I weren't supposed to go out of the house, and if we _did_ it was definitely not meant to be for longer than a few moments.

"Really, Uncle Charlie?" Tyler asked jovially, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"Really, really," Charlie nodded, winking at his niece, "Now, it's still early, so why don't you scatter back to bed for a few more hours? You'll tire out much too quickly if we take you out gallivanting in your current state."

Tyler didn't need to be told twice. She muttered a quick, "'Kay," and was scurrying up the stairs again. She had never been one not to follow directions, especially when an award was waiting just around the corner. I would bet my entire savings at Gringotts that she would be asleep within five seconds of her head touching her pillow.

The moment we heard her door click shut, Charlie was looking at me with a smile, "You're welcome."

"Sorry, but I don't recall ever thanking you," I said, turning away from him.

Glancing around the kitchen I noticed a group of dirty dishes, piled high in the sink. I internally rolled my eyes. Leave it to a wizard to have dirty dishes lying about. I mean, for heaven's sake all one needed was to flick a wand and mutter a quick band of syllables. I know he's powerful enough to accomplish the task. Rolling up the sleeves of the jersey I was wearing, I turned on the water and set to work in an effort to keep my hands busy.

"That's just because you're impolite," Charlie said, an amused hitch in his voice that I didn't quite understand right away.

"I am _not_ impolite," I said, outraged, as I scrubbed at a white bowl, "And I highly doubt that _you_ could be the judge of civility."

I didn't get an answer from him. In fact, the kitchen was completely silent except for the flow of water from the sink and the sounds of clinking glass, as I continued my task. It was almost unnerving.

Then, suddenly, two strong arms were slipping over my hips and wrapping fully around my waist. The body that pressed up against mine brought back both beautiful and heart-wrenching memories. I didn't realize that the kitchen was now completely quiet until I dropped my hands, the flow of warm water no longer caressing my palms. I was shocked into stillness, unable to do anything but feel. Feel the heat of the chest that pressed into my back and the irresistible lure of the lips that ghosted across my right temple.

"Charlie," I managed, half-heartedly attempting to warn him off.

"Hermione," he murmured, sighing against the nape of my neck, "I can't do this."

"What?" I breathed, confusion marring my voice.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" he asked, running his hands up my sides and then allowing one to slide to a halt on my stomach, reaching beneath the jersey to caress my skin with a calloused hand.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Every logical, even slightly rational, thought was quickly slipping out of my mind. I was falling into his touch, completely lost in it just like all those months ago.

"Hermione," Charlie murmured, gripping my hips again and quickly spinning me around. His body cornered mine against the counter in a way similar to what he had done just the day before. I closed my eyes in an attempt to keep one last defense. A defense that would be lost, too, if I met his stormy gaze even for a moment.

His hand reached up to cup my cheek, urging me to open up to him. "How much longer are you going to fight this? Us?" he demanded in a harsh whisper, his disappointment overriding his anger.

"Charlie . . ."

"No," he said, the commanding tone of his voice making a shiver run up my spine, "You say you don't care about me, but I see the way you look at me sometimes and it's anything but platonic. You say that you don't want to be with me, but you don't move away when I hold you. You're torn, and I understand that. Really, I do. But, stop pretending -both to you and me- that your decision is made up and I have no chance."

My mind was jumbled. It was completely mixed between compassion for the man that had his arms around me so tenderly, and anger for how I so easily gave in to my desire for him. "We can't just erase everything that happened, Charlie," I said, bringing a hand up to caress the top of his, which continued to trace the contours of my face.

"I know that," Charlie said, and I felt him nodding his head to himself before turning his palm into mine and rubbing circles into my skin, "And I know that you still feel guilty for what happened with my brother. I feel guilty, too. I loved Ron, he was my family, but I don't regret betraying him. As bad as it sounds, I can't bring myself to regret you."

"We stabbed him in the back, Charlie," I whispered, trying to push away the flutters that were erupting in my stomach at his words, "And we jumped head-first into a relationship that couldn't end in anything but hurt, at the same time."

"It doesn't have to end that way, though," he said, as if the idea could be thought up by a two-year-old and I was just being plain slow, "It doesn't have to end _at all_, so stop being so damn pessimistic. You've always had a problem seeing a bright side to things."

"Shut up," I said, feeling thankful for the mood change.

He was teasing me and I was going along with it, and I hated that the change could happen so quickly. I hated that one minute I was being a complete bitch and the next I was forcing myself to finally be myself with him. Why couldn't I stick with one or the other? Why couldn't my mind give up and let my heart have its way? Or, at least, the other way around. Something had to give.

"You know you don't mean that," he said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against mine.

"That cockiness has to go," I mumbled, flicking my eyes up to his and feeling another flutter in my stomach at the emotion I found there.

The air in the kitchen seemed to get a thrilling edge to it, as we stood there looking at each other for few more seconds. Both of us seemed to be making a silent decision. We were stuck in a stalemate, and had been for some time now. But, it couldn't last much longer, and we both knew it.

All of a sudden, a look of determination entered Charlie's eyes and before I could blink he had leaned down, cupped the back of my neck with his hand, and captured my lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. Rather embarrassingly, my body reacted within a second. My back arched, pressing us against each other intimately, and my arms somehow positioned themselves around his neck.

His leg found its way in-between my own, and I could have sung with emotion when our bodies rubbed together. Our lips moved with each other's at a pace that quickly went from compassionate to fiery. My hands were absently moving across his torso trying to reacquaint themselves with the feel of his muscles flexing beneath them.

"Gods, Baby. Need you so bad," Charlie breathed, breaking away from my lips and trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down the column of my neck. His hands were sprawled across my stomach and back, feeling delicious as they moved against my skin.

An absentminded moan escaped my mouth as my eyes fluttered closed in pure, unadulterated bliss. This was what I had been missing. All the anger that I had allowed to fill me to the brim and all the shame that had been boiling in my blood . . . It all was gone for this unbelievable moment, leaving only lust behind.

I don't recall how we wound up in Charlie's bedroom, or how we were able to discard all items of clothing so quickly without injuring ourselves in one way or another during the process; however, there we were. The firm contours of his body pressed into mine as he braced his arms on either side of my head, his lips suckling at the pleasurable spot on the base of my neck that always seemed to elicit a delighted response.

My arms reached around his body, grasping him to me as if he was my only life-line. Every touch, every caress, was like receiving another fix of a drug that I had been denying myself of for much too long. His taste was intoxicating as our lips pressed against each other's again, his sweet tongue making me gasp. The feel of his bare chest pressed against my own was enough to cause my body to writhe beneath his in anticipation.

Then, for a moment, Charlie stopped. His eyes opened completely and captured mine in an enrapturing glance. The look, alone, was enough to make me come undone right in that second. The love that bore into me through his sea-green orbs was breathtaking. One of my hands trailed down his back temptingly, trying to convey my wants and needs to him without words.

His eyes closed for a brief moment, as if regaining his footing in the situation, before his hands trailed down my thighs slowly. Automatically, my legs spread in response, wrapping around his waist and holding him firmly where I so desperately desired him. Finally, he buried his face against the crook of my neck and thrust inside of me.

The sound of my name on his breath sent a new wave of chills through me as my body adjusted to the pleasure that I had been depriving myself of. Charlie groaned against me, his mouth grazing my jaw as he drew back and again thrust inside. Everywhere he touched seemed to hum, and soon my body was arching up to meet him. Both of our bodies joined together as my fingers scrapped over his back and his lips kissed me with a new, possessive, quality that I quickly came to adore.

His thrusts quickened, providing a desperate air to our coupling as our bodies glazed over with sweat from the exertion. I murmured Charlie's name against his ear, all other words completely forgotten from my vocabulary as my body keened with pleasure against his.

When he came, the sensation of his release made me quiver as a broken sob escaped my throat. The racking of his body pushed me over the edge. My teeth bit into my lips, my eyes closed and my head threw back at the force of the beautiful, fulfilled contentment that I was experiencing.

Our foreheads rested against each other's for a few, long moments after we were finished. Every limb was tangled with another and my heartbeat pulsed within my head as I kept my eyes tightly closed to emblaze the crashing waves of ecstasy in my mind forever. At last, Charlie rolled over, taking me with him and wrapping his arms securely around my waist.

We didn't say a word as exhaustion took over, my head resting on his chest as the beautiful song of his heartbeat slowed and lulled me to sleep.

* * *

AN: Don't forget to review! Thanks to everyone who has left comments. I love hearing from you all, it keeps me motivated :)


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